One Man's Decision
by broncomap
Summary: After Kitty heals from the vicious attack by Bonner and his men, Matt makes a decision.
1. Having to Decide

AN: This takes place 9 months after Jude Bonner's attack on Kitty in the episode Hostage. It is out of canon. On with the show.

Dodge

Lying on his side with his head propped up in one hand, Matt watched Kitty sleeping soundly beside him. Moonlight streamed in the window giving her hair an incandescent glow. Her face, free of make up, had a touching softness to it. A slight smile touched her lips. Her post lovemaking dreams had been sweet.

Seeing her like this almost soothed his uneasy soul but guilt, and fear for her tomorrows would not allow it. It was because of him that she'd been viciously raped, brutally beaten and shot in the back. That was 9 months ago, just after the arrest of Jude Bonner's brother by the illustrious Marshal Dillon had been lauded the newspapers. The praise was piled on. Jude Bonner could not get his brother back, and craved revenge. He knew a man like Dillon wouldn't fear for himself, so he used Kitty and relished every second of her torture.

Matt lightly circled Kitty's lips with his thumb. After Bonner, it had taken weeks for her to smile, and months for her to get through a night without nightmares. Yet miraculously, day-by-day she grew stronger and her true self re-emerged. Bonner tried to crush her life force, but he'd only succeeded in sending it into hiding. She'd survived in tact. Matt was pleased, relieved and proud of her, but couldn't stop asking himself - What about next time? - What about the next vengeful madman?

He glanced out the window. Dawn was approaching. It was time. Time to do the only thing he could, to protect Kitty and give her a chance at the life she deserved. Noiselessly he rose and dressed. He patted his shirt pocket to make sure the letter from the War Department was still there, and turned to look at Kitty. He swallowed hard. So many years of sharing everything, joys and sorrows, ups and downs, good and bad – but there were things no woman should have to be part of. He loved her enough to do what was hardest - leave. If things went according to plan, she'd get a substantial sum of money and be free of him to ….."

"Matt." Kitty stirred and opened her eyes a slit.

"Go back to sleep, honey. It's barely dawn." He tenderly kissed her forehead.

She drifted off. He ached to take her in his arms, hold her close, kiss her lips. He wanted to tear up letter from the War Department and stay with her. The pull was irresistible - almost. He turned sharply and felt his heart rip open. There was no other solution. Being out of her life was best for her.

Not daring to look back, he hurried down the back stairs of the Long Branch. The streets were empty. Ordinarily he'd be starting early morning rounds, but these were not ordinary times and although no announcement had been made, he was no longer marshal of this town and territory. He'd put a thick envelope on his desk last night, with information and advice for Bill Jackson. He wished the man well.

He strode quickly down the empty street and went into the stable. No one was around, which suited him fine. The few belongings he was taking were already packed in the saddlebags waiting in the corner of the stall. He saddled his horse and picked up the bags to buckle them on.

"What in tarnation is going on?"

Matt froze for a moment before facing Doc. He tried to sound normal. "Morning Doc, this isn't the first time I've left town early in the morning."

Doc's eyes were blazing. "No, but here's a first for you. I've driving home near dawn, after delivering a baby, and I see Festus fishing. Seems you told him last night that he could go on an extended fishing trip, because the new marshal didn't know if he'd be hiring a deputy. So I'm asking you directly, what is all this about a new marshal?"

"Doc, Marshal Bill Jackson is a good man. He's arriving on the afternoon stage. He'll do right by this town and territory."

"Matt, I'm asking you again. What in tarnation is going on? There are people here who care about you. People who'd do anything for you and thought you felt the same way about them. Where are you running away to and why? And by golly, I feel confident that Kitty doesn't know a thing about it."

"She doesn't. I figured it was better that way".

"Sneaking off is better that saying goodbye? That's not the Matt Dillon I know."

"Doc listen, you know what Bonner and his men did to Kitty. It was because of me."

"Matt, you listen." Doc saw the torment in Matt's eyes and his voice softened. "Kitty also recovered because of you. I watched her lying on that bed bleeding, bruised and turned inside out. She didn't want to live and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it, but you could, and you did. Now, 9 months later, she is as happy and as engaged in life as I've ever seen her. How can you leave her now?"

"Don't you see Doc, now that she's strong and happy, she doesn't need me like she did right after it happened."

"Doesn't need you? Really? You'd better explain that to her. Matt, you can't just disappear, it isn't fair."

Matt slammed his saddlebags to the ground. "All right. I'll go talk to her." He strode past Doc, but when he reached the door stopped and took a deep breath, "Doc, I have to leave. It's the only way to keep Kitty safe. And what I'm doing will secure her financial future. She'll be able to buy a house or something. Saying goodbye would hurt her, and wouldn't change a thing."

Matt went back to his horse and picked up his saddlebags. The pain in his eyes squeezed Doc's heart. He clasped Matt's arm. "Don't go. Don't leave Kitty, or – us. Your place is here. Listen I know what happened is hard for you to live with, but you and Kitty can work through all that."

Matt shook his head. "She's better off without me." He put a hand in his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Doc, I wrote this for Kitty, but I wasn't sure if it would make my leaving better or worse for her." He pressed it into Doc's hands. "I'm still not sure, so you decide." He let out a long breath."And Doc, you – you've been the best friend a man could have – I wouldn't have survived this long if …" Unable to finish he ran his fingers through his hair and continued buckling his saddle.

"You're about to do something dangerous, aren't you?"

Matt finished securing his bags and Doc saw the envelope sticking out of his pocket. It was from the War Department. "Matt, answer me." Doc's tone was desperate.

With a final tug on the saddle strap, Matt Dillon mounted and rode off into the early morning light.

Doc Adams watched him ride away feeling older and sadder than he'd ever felt. The note Matt had written to Kitty weighed heavily upon him as he made his way home.

TBC


	2. Next Steps

Three Days Later

Sitting at her vanity, Kitty stared into the mirror and patted another layer of make-up under her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. The result, far from perfect, was the best she could do. She stood and bent over to pick up a sliver of paper. Matt's note was in shreds, scattered across the floor. Piece by piece she tossed the torn up note into the trash. She'd never forget the words.

 _Dear Kitty,_

 _I'm sorry, so sorry. Terrible things have happened to you because of me. This last time, far more than any woman should have to suffer. I thought I could protect you. I failed. I thought by keeping our relationship unofficial you'd be shielded from the worst. I was wrong. Being with me isn't safe for you. I've made too many enemies over too many years. I love you Kitty, so I have to leave to keep you safe. I see no way to free us from my past. You deserve happiness, peace and a good life. With me out of the way, you can find those things._

 _Kitty I've found a way to earn a good sum of money. It will go to you. You'll be able to buy the kind of house you've dreamed of and more._

 _There is so much to say, but I don't have the right words. If I were a poet or a writer, I'd be better at this._

 _Kitty be happy and safe._

 _Love,_

 _Matt_

 _Happy and safe, happy and safe_ – the words echoed in Kitty's mind as she dropped the last shreds of the note into the trash basket. She had to get a grip on herself. For 3 days she'd cried and railed against Matt Dillon. Sometimes alone, sometime in the company of Doc, who'd spent hours listening to her, comforting her and drying her tears. He was with her earlier today, when Matt's words about money going to her, finally registered in her mind. All color had drained from her face.

"Doc, he's doing something really dangerous isn't he, something that will earn him a lot of money. He doesn't think he'll make it out alive, and doesn't care. Damn him. I don't want blood money."

"Kitty, he blamed himself for what happened to you. He carried that guilt, and more than that, he carried the fear that something like that would happen again, with no way for him to prevent it."

She shook her head. "Doc, these past months I knew that something was eating at him, but I thought he'd talk about it when he was ready. I thought we'd work it out together." Her anger swelled and she paced. "He was wrong to leave. I have the right to make decisions about my life. He couldn't see a way forward, but maybe WE could have."

"Kitty, I don't agree with what Matt's doing. I think he's a damn fool, but he did this out of love, real love."

"Damn him."

It was with those words that she'd torn up the note and thrown the pieces in the air. Now, hours later, after 3 days in her rooms, it was time to rejoin the world. She took a last glance in the mirror, lifted her chin and descended the stairs into her saloon. "Hello Sam, thanks for all your extra work the past few days."

"No trouble Miss Kitty. I'll never forget how good you were to me when I was out with pneumonia. I'm happy to help."

She smiled and scanned the room, "Who's that man in the 3-piece suit? He has quite a group gathered around. Don't think I've seen him before."

"He's been in the past couple of nights. Always has an entertaining story to tell. He doesn't drink much, but he keeps folks hanging around so he's good for business."

"Sam, I like the way you think." She assessed the man – mid 40's, medium build, a pleasant face and a compelling manner. He was addressing his audience with one foot on a chair, and everyone was riveted. After another minute of animated talk, he bowed his head slightly to indicate the end of the story and everyone laughed and clapped. The group broke up, and the man took a seat alone at a table in the back of the room.

"Sam, I think I'll go say hello to our new customer." She went over and stood next to his table wearing a practiced smile. "Good evening, I'm Kitty Russell welcome to Dodge."

The man smiled back. "Kitty Russell, the owner of this fine saloon. Thank you for the welcome. My name's Caleb Carson, care to join me for a drink?"

"Thank you Mr. Carson, a beer would be fine."

Carson gestured at Sam to bring two beers. They appeared quickly, and Kitty took a sip. "So Mr. Carson, what brings you to Dodge City?"

"A desire to see something new. I'm a writer, I've been in New York City for a while, so I decided to visit the open spaces of the west."

"What kind of writing do you do?"

"Fiction, in others words I make up stories. As you may have observed, I sometimes test my story ideas on people. It helps me develop novels. Several of them have done well, if I do say so myself. My most recent was called, _A Grand Matter_. I don't suppose you've heard of it."

"Mr. Carson, I'm so sorry." Her eyes widened. "I didn't recognize your name. As a matter of fact I did read that book and enjoyed it very much. I've read several of your novels. Are you writing another?"

"Yes, and it's almost finished. I'll complete the last few chapters while I'm here and mail them to my publisher. It's called, _The Prince and the Maid_. It's about a European Prince who comes to American and falls in love with a hotel maid. They go through numerous difficulties, but he ends up bringing her home as a Princess. They live happily ever after." He took a sip of beer, and laughed "Oh my, I hope I haven't ruined the ending for you."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy the book even knowing the outcome, but it sounds more like a fairy tale than a novel." She raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Happily-ever-after is not just for fairy tales. It works in novels too, as long as they are well written. Personally, I believe that with the right kind of love, it can happen in real life, although I've never seen it." He laughed and sipped his beer.

Kitty's eyes darkened and a cloud of sadness settled around her. Caleb noticed and was surprised and dismayed. Kitty stood. "I look forward to reading more of your work. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Caleb watched her walk away. There was something special about her, and he hoped they'd meet again, but he couldn't help but wonder what was making her sad.

Matt

Matt arrived in Washington DC and strode into the Office of the War Department without bothering to shave or change his clothes. The department head, Abraham Davidson, didn't seem to care and greeted him with an outstretched hand.

"Hello Matt, it's been quite a while since we've seen each other."

Matt shook the offered hand without comment.

Davidson went to the small cabinet and pulled out a bottle of brandy. "Would you like a drink?"

"No – No thank you."

"I see." Davidson set the bottle down unopened. "You want to get down to business. Matt, when I got your message asking for re-assignment, I offered several options. I want you to think again before choosing this one."

"Why?"

"I admire your work, you know that. You're the best this country has to offer in law enforcement."

"Abraham, you know I've done some things that are …."

Davidson put up his hand, "I didn't say you were perfect. I know that after what happened to Miss Russell, you took off your badge and went after Bonner and his men, but my god, you're human. Furthermore, the only reason I know about that is because you included it in your report. That says something about you. In the end you arrested the ruthless bastards, and let them go to trial. Thankfully every one of them was hung."

Matt stiffened, "What's your point?"

"I'm in an odd position, Matt. I need someone to accept a job, but I feel in my gut that you're taking it for the wrong reasons." Abraham Davidson shook his head. "I regret mentioning the thing to you. You're needed as the marshal of Dodge City and Kansas territory. Take that job back. If you can't for whatever reasons, take one of the other territories I offered to you."

Matt shook his head. "I want this job and the bonus money involved. I believe it's $25,000, the most ever offered. If I die, the money goes to the person I name. That's the job I want."

Davidson went back to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and filled a shot glass. "All right marshal, have a seat." He swallowed the drink in one gulp. "There's a gang called the Bonds. They haven't been in your territory, but they've hit other parts of the country."

"I've heard of them." Matt leaned forward, "They've gotten ransom money on prominent people, and even managed to rob an army payroll."

"Yes and more, and they've murdered men, women and children along the way. Matt they couldn't succeed without inside information. They know exactly when foreign dignitaries are coming, and what their travel plans are. They knew precisely when and how that army payroll was being moved. I am positive that their informant is right here in my department, but I can't ferret him out, and believe me I've tried. I need someone to infiltrate the gang, gain their trust and find out who that informant is. A name is all I need. Matt, when their source dries up it won't take them long to figure out why, and you'll be a dead man. If by some miracle you escape, they'll go after you."

Matt stood, "Escape isn't my goal. If I escape they could try to get to me through someone I care about. I've had too much of that. Let's get started. First, the paperwork for where the money will go when I send you the name of the informant. Second, tell me everything you know about the Bonds.

TBC


	3. Progress?

Inside the General Store, Mr. Jonas put a bag of chocolates and a copy of _A Grand Matter_ into a small box and wrapped it securely. "Here you go Miss Kitty. I hope your friend likes her gift."

"Thank you, I'm sure she will." Kitty took the box with one hand, while gripping an envelope tightly with the other. The letter it contained had not been easy to write. "I'm off to the post office to send it for her birthday."

Kitty hurried down the street, but it was the letter she was clutching, not the gift box, that was uppermost in her mind. She was pondering how long it would take the letter to reach Washington DC, when a cat darted out of an alley. Startled, she tripped and dropped the box.

"Here, let me help you." Caleb Carson shoved the large, thick envelope he was carrying under his arm and rushed over. "I have a feeling we're both headed to the post office. Allow me to carry your box."

"Thank you Mr. Carson, I'm mailing it to a friend in the town of Ballard. My guess is you're mailing that thick envelope to your publisher in New York City."

"Correct. It's the next chapter of my book. I send one chapter at a time, even though I could send more. My publisher and I play a little game. If he's slow in paying me I'm slow in sending chapters." Carson chuckled as they walked. "Oh, and please call me Caleb."

"All right, and it's Kitty."

They finished their business in the post office at the same time and Caleb held the door open for her. "Kitty, I wonder if I could ask a favor of you? I'm afraid it's an unusual request."

Kitty smiled crookedly. "Try me." Caleb could have no idea of the outlandish requests she'd gotten from men during her years of working saloons.

"As a writer, I want to be able to describe the styles women shop for and wear in this part of the country. I went into the dress shop yesterday, and let's just say that the ladies who run the shop were not welcoming." He laughed, "In fact they were downright hostile. I don't blame them. They're not used to men entering their shop, particularly strange men. My explanation that I was a writer was met with suspicion, so I quickly left. So, I wondered if you'd accompany me to the Dodge City Dress Shop and make an introduction."

Kitty threw her head back and laughed. " Mr. Ca – I mean Caleb, that sounds like fun. Right this way."

Caleb took her arm. "Thank you Kitty."

Matt

Matt was grimy and trail worn when he rode into the town of Atoka in Oklahoma territory. He fit right in. Abraham Davidson had said that the Bond gang was likely holed up somewhere in Oklahoma, and this was the 4th dusty, ride-through town he'd stopped in. He was starting to think that finding the gang could take months.

He rode down the dirt road called Main Street, taking everything in. A few grizzled old men were talking and spitting outside a squat building. The sign in the window said: _General Store open Monday through Saturday._ A smaller sign underneath read: _Sunday service held here._ Next door was a dilapidated saloon named, The Golden Palace. A skinny woman with sunken cheeks leaned against the wall outside, wearing a dingy red dress and greasy make up. Her tired eyes followed him as he rode by. He reached the stable at the end of the street, and something caught his attention. A narrow shack next to the stable seemed to be a telegraph station. He felt a touch of hope. This could be the right town. Sending wires would be the fastest way for an informant in Washington DC to get word to a gang in Oklahoma territory. A talk with the telegraph operator was in order.

A gray haired man limped out of the stable. "Name's Jeb, if ya want ya horse tended it'll be a nickel a day."

"Here's for the first day. " Matt handed over a coin, and led his horse inside. "Let me ask you something, Jeb. Kind of unusual for a place this size to have a telegraph station, isn't it?"

"Got put in when the war between the states ended. Indians in these parts fought with the rebels, after the war the government took a bunch of land from them and put the thing in. The minister tends it, name's Reverend Torch. He ain't got much else to do except on Sundays." Jeb pointed to a man curled up in the corner of a stall, snoring loudly and clutching an empty whiskey bottle. Matt shook his head. Talking to the telegraph operator would have to wait. "Jeb, is the Golden Palace the only saloon in town?"

"Yep, don't see why we'd need another."

"Thanks. I think I'll go have a beer." Since he couldn't talk to the telegraph operator, the saloon would be the best place to get a feel for things. Pausing outside the batwing doors of the Golden Palace, he peered into the barely lit barroom. Kitty turned towards him with the familiar smile that was for him alone. He closed his eyes to get a grip, and took a deep breath before pushing through the doors.

Dodge

Caleb Carson pushed open door of the Dodge City Dress Shop and the overhead bells jangled. Monica and Mable Berg looked up from their sewing and saw Kitty with the mysterious man who'd been by before.

Monica, the older, dark-haired sister nervously stood up. "Kitty, what brings you here? Your new dress isn't due for a week."

"Oh, I'm not checking on the dress. I just want to introduce my friend, Mr. Caleb Carson, and show him around. Mr. Carson is a writer from New York City. He's interested in details about lady's fashions to make his writing realistic.

Monica, the plump, younger sister popped up to her feet, "Oh, Mr. Carson, you were in before." She giggled, "I'm sorry, we didn't know what to make of you. Please look around."

"Thank you ladies. He smiled at Kitty, "Well, educate me on the styles worn by women in the great west."

She went through the racks of dresses the sisters were working on, pointing out styles, colors and fabrics. She was tentative at first, but as he asked questions and took notes, she decided if he was feigning interest, he was the best actor she'd ever seen.

When they were finished he went to Monica and Mable and offered a slight bow. "Thank you ladies. You run a fine shop. I have tremendous respect for women who run businesses."

He tucked his notebook into his pocket and escorted Kitty out the door. "Kitty, that was very helpful. In writing, details make a story real. Please allow me to express my gratitude by taking you to dinner tonight, or tomorrow, or lunch tomorrow?" He laughed, "Your choice."

"Dinner tonight would be nice.

Matt

Matt leaned against the bar of the Golden Palace and signaled the bartender. "Beer."

"10 cents – pay first. That the rule."

Matt knew he was being overcharged but dropped a coin on the bar and was served a warm, headless beer. He took a sip and glanced around. The emaciated women he'd seen outside in the dingy red dress, was slumped in a chair, nervously fingering the front of her neck. She was warily, even fearfully, watching the 4 men seated at the only occupied table. He followed her gaze. His gut told him they were the men he was looking for. Sipping his so-called beer, he watched them carefully. A heavy set, dark haired man with a bushy mustache was obviously in charge. He would be the one to impress. The youngest man, who looked barely old enough to shave, was talking excitedly and gesturing grandly. The other two, one thin and one stocky, quietly drank their whiskey. Matt could see the boss growing annoyed with the young man's chatter, and decided to make an entrance. He walked over to the talkative youngster and shoved his shoulder. "Billy, Billy Brown, I'm glad I ran into you. You owe me $20, remember?"

The young man scowled. "I don't know who the hell you are. I ain't no Billy, and I don't owe you nothing."

"Come on sonny, a kid like you should learn to pay his debts."

"Don't you call me sonny, you jackass."

"Just hand over my money, and I'll forget the name calling. I try to be patient with youngsters." Matt's calm tone wasn't lost on the boss.

The young man spit at Matt's feet. "I'm more man than you."

Matt rolled his eyes, "Sonny boy, just give me my $20. You don't want to be messing with grown-ups." The young man jumped to his feet, hand moving to his gun.

The mustached man stood and pushed him down firmly. "Sit and shut your mouth. What did I tell you about getting into stupid fights? I'll take care of this." He turned to Matt. "$20 don't seem worth dying for stranger."

"I won't die for $20, he will if he's stupid enough to draw on me."

"Don't be too sure. He's good with a gun. I've seen him."

"You haven't seen me."

The boss man shrugged and started to sit, but sure that Matt's focus was on the young hothead, threw a punch at his jaw. Matt blocked it and backhanded him, sending him flying. The other three men jumped to their feet. Matt's gun flew from his holster. "Hold it."

The three men froze. Their leader grinned as he got back on his feet rubbing his cheek. He extended his hand. "Name's Jason Bond. Folks call me JB. These are my cousins: Alex, Ben and the one you called Billy is Carl. You were wrong about him. An honest mistake I'm sure, and it don't matter. I like the way you handle yourself. I might be able to use a man with your abilities. It'll mean a lot more than $20. What's your name?"

"Matthew, Matthew Adams. If you think $20 is no big deal, why are you in a nothing place like this?"

"Well Matt there …"

"I said my name's Matthew." Matt locked eyes with JB.

"All right - Matthew. Follow us to our cabin, and give an ear to what I have to say." JB was impressed. Matthew seemed tough and fearless, but wouldn't fly off the handle like Carl did.

"Well, coming Matthew?"

"No reason why not. I'll get my horse from the stable."

"We'll meet you outside."

Matt left and JB walked over to the woman in the red dress. He grinned and gripped her by the throat, "Sorry Naomi, we have to go. See you next time." He roughly released her and walked off.

TBC


	4. Getting To Know You

That Evening

Delmonico's was packed. Kitty and Caleb sat at a small table near the kitchen, digging into antelope stew. Kitty swallowed a bite, "Caleb, I've never met a man before who took such an interest in women's styles. Men usually only notice clothes when a woman is wearing them and they – well – they …"

"Accentuate certain assets." Caleb gave her an innocent look.

Kitty laughed, "Exactly."

Caleb smiled. He was fast realizing how much he enjoyed making this woman smile and laugh.

"How are you enjoying the west and Dodge City so far?"

"I like it. The land has a special kind of beauty. Folks have an independent streak but it's combined with a sense of looking out for each other. At the same time, I've noticed that conflicts seem to rise up rather quickly out here. Personally, even though I'm happy to do a little wrangling with my publisher over money, I'm not much for taking on battles." He took a sip of coffee. "I trust there are others who will try to right the wrongs of the world."

"Is this a private party or can a grumpy, old doctor squeeze in?"

Caleb looked up and smiled. "Doctor Adams, the more the merrier, please join us."

Doc sunk into a chair and set his medical bag on the floor, "Caleb, everyone around here calls me Doc. You should too. How's the antelope stew?"

Caleb looked at Kitty. She shrugged. He looked at Doc. "I've never had better, not even in New York City."

"You've had antelope stew in New York City?"

"Nope."

"You've had antelope stew before?"

"Nope."

Kitty laughed. The sound warmed Doc's heart and delighted Caleb.

Matt

Matt followed JB and the others across dry, flat, barren land for a half mile. They rode over a ridge and came to a large cabin. The only other structure in sight was a small shed that sat a couple or yards away. It was locked up tight. He followed the 4 men into the cabin and his eyes widened. JB nodded, "Yep, pretty nice, ain't it Matthew?"

Matt nodded but was annoyed with himself for letting his reaction show on his face. Fact was it was nicer than any cabin he'd seen before. They walked into a sitting area where a couch and comfortable chairs sat on a thick, circular rug. In the rear was a kitchen with a good stove, pots and pans, a big table and sturdy wood chairs. Off the kitchen was an alcove with a bunk bed and a large chest. A ladder led to a spacious loft that held three beds, a dresser and some chairs.

The 4 Bonds filled glasses with water and sat at the kitchen table. Matt joined them and JB set a glass in front of him, "Matthew, I pride myself on being a good judge of men, and I see a lot in you. You're good with a gun and know how to fight. You'll kill, but won't fly off the handle for every little thing. I could use a man like you. Work with us and your days of worrying about $20 are over. It's a fine opportunity, but I want to be clear, this is your chance to say yes or no. Say no and leave now, no hard feelings. Say yes, and you're one of us. Cross us and you're dead. It's that simple."

"Hold on now." Matt put up a hand. "If what you say is true, why are you living way out in Oklahoma territory? Sure you have a nice cabin, but you're in the middle of nowhere."

"Matthew, you're showing me how smart you are. Here's the deal. We do jobs. I reckon you can guess the kind of jobs I'm talking about. We'll keep it up 'til the end of the year. Then we'll go our separate ways to live high on the hog, for the rest of our born days. I'm talking about every one of us being richer than any king could dream of being. You in?"

"What's my cut?"

"Ha, ha." JB clapped his hands together. He enjoyed this man. "When we're done, my secret partner, who gives us information, gets 1/3. Since I figure out the details of the operations, I get 1/3. The men who work for me split 1/3 among them. Don't worry there's plenty. So much that my boys won't mind splitting their share with you. Right boys?"

Alex and Ben nodded. Carl smacked his hand on the table. "I mind. JB, if you want him working with us, you share your third with him or I'm leaving."

"Carl, no one leaves once they start. You know that. Now, I've been patient with your hot-headed ways, but don't push it."

"I've had it, JB." He pointed to Matt, "I'm not sharing my cut with him. Anyways, he's trouble. I just know it. I'm leaving and you can't stop me." Carl jumped up and had his gun pointed at JB before anyone could move. "Get over to the shed, JB, and bring me my share. I'm leaving."

JB pushed himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. "I'm tired of your whining Carl. And I know you don't have the guts to shoot me." JB drew and fired. Carl's eyes widened with shock. He fell backwards, blood poured from his chest.

JB walked over and looked down at his young cousin. He turned to Alex and Ben with a sorrowful look. "He's dead. A shame ain't it? Drag him outside and bury him."

Without a word Alex and Ben did as they were told. JB walked over to a wall where numbers were written in chalk. He shook his head at Carl's foolishness and rubbed out the number 14 with his meaty hand. He grabbed a piece of chalk and wrote the number 15. "Well looky there." He stepped back, "15 - 4 – 2, my lucky numbers. Of course these numbers will need changing one day soon, but Matthew, my lucky numbers showing up the same day you appear is a good sign."

"Those numbers mean something, JB?"

"Sure do. So far we've killed 15 men, 4 women and 2 children. That's why those numbers will change, 'cause for sure we're gonna kill more folks. But right now my lucky numbers are there, and I feel good about seeing them." JB smiled and picked up his hat. "Let's go outside. I want to say some words of respect over Carl's grave. I don't take with disrespecting the dead. When that's done, I'll tell you and the others about tomorrow's job. We're going to grab some gold bars from a military shipment."

TBC


	5. On a Saturday Morning

The Next Morning

Matt

Matt rolled over in bed and opened his eyes. The ceiling seemed unusually close. It was a few seconds before he remembered he was in the top bunk of JB's bunk beds. It was the sleeping arrangement that JB had, for some reason, insisted upon.

He looked down over the side of the bed and saw JB was gone, so he quickly dressed and went into the kitchen. The smell of strong coffee filled his nostrils. JB was alone at the table drinking from a large mug. "Morning Matthew, come grab some brew and take a seat. I'll tell you something, you sure know how to ruin a man's sleep. Tonight you'll sleep up in the loft with Alex and Ben. Take Carl's bed." JB took a long swig of black coffee, "Let me ask you something, when you were a kid, did you have a pet cat you feel guilty about? Did you drown it or something?"

"What do you mean?"

"All night you were saying stuff like – kitty, kitty, I'm sorry, kitty."

Careful not to show any emotion, Matt nodded, "Yeah, you guessed it. I accidently drowned my cat."

"I never took much to animals," JB shrugged. "Sure don't see no harm in drowning a cat."

Alex and Ben wandered in and Matt nodded hello, glad to have the conversation interrupted. He quickly finished his coffee and stood. "JB, I know we ride out at noon to steal those gold bars, and I want everything to go right. I think one of my horse's shoes is loose, so it might be a good idea for me to go into town and have it fixed."

"Sounds good Mathew, just be back by noon. I don't take with lateness. Oh, since you're going to town, grab a bottle of whiskey from the box outside the door. When you get to the stable give it to the minister. I owe him one and don't want to get behind in my payments." JB laughed and poured himself more coffee.

Matt left the cabin, and saw a crate filled with booze a few feet from the door. He grabbed a bottle and rode off. Telling JB that his horse's shoe was loose was a good excuse to go to town alone. It would give him a little time to start asking questions. Jeb said the minister operated the telegraph, and JB seemed to be paying him off with booze. Sober or not, the reverend was the place to start.

Kitty

"Matt, Matt, you'll be all right. I'll get you out. I promise." Kitty's eyes sprang open. Drenched in sweat and breathing hard, her body was trembling as she pushed herself to a sitting position. She'd dreamt that Matt was tied up in a burning building, but the smoke was so thick she couldn't get to him no matter how hard she tried.

Blinking her eyes she repeated – _it isn't real – it isn't real– it isn't real_. Her breathing slowed and she glanced at the clock. It was still early, but the thought of going back to sleep terrified her. She shakily pulled on her terry cloth robe and went to the window. A sign was nailed to a post across the street announcing the Annual Ladies Auxiliary Sociable. It was happening tonight. She'd planned to skip it and stay home alone, but yesterday at Delmonico's, Caleb and Doc talked her into to going with them. Now, in the bright light of morning, she was having second thoughts. She sat down on the side of her bed still shaken by her nightmare. How could she go to a sociable when Matt – when Matt – when Matt what? She didn't know where he was or what was happening to him, and there'd been no answer to the letter she sent to Washington, at least not yet. Doc kept telling her to keep busy, be with people and not spend too much time alone. Maybe he had a point. Sitting home by herself wouldn't help Matt or keep him safe. She should go to the sociable with Doc and Caleb.

She went to her closet and started going through her dresses, sure that Caleb would take note of the style, fabric and color of whatever she wore. The thought of their visit to the dress shop made her smile. She enjoyed Caleb's company. It was strange because he was nothing like Matt – or - maybe that was why she found him so easy to be with. Caleb didn't remind her of Matt, and he'd never met or even seen the man. Everyone else had strong memories of Matt, and were well aware of the impact he'd had on their lives. The new marshal, Bill Jackson, was getting quite an earful about how Marshal Dillon would have done this or that differently. Kitty sighed. She wished Matt Dillon had done one thing differently. She wished he hadn't left. Banishing the tears that were threatening to form, she continued looking through her closet. She came to her royal blue dress and nodded firmly, it would do nicely.

Matt

Matt led his horse into the stable and Jeb limped over. "Ya back. Don't be expecting any credit today because ya didn't leave your horse over night."

"No Jeb, I just want you to check his shoes and make sure they're not loose."

Jeb took the reins, "OK, but if I got to work on any, it'll cost ya."

Matt nodded and glanced around. The minister was stirring in the back stall. He groaned and held one hand to his head.

Matt set the whiskey bottle down in front of him with a thud. "This is from JB."

"Ah breakfast." The minister slowly sat up, and brushed the straw out of his hair.

"Don't you think you should get some food into you?"

"The good book says, _Man does not live by bread alone._ He unscrewed the bottle, took a tiny sip and set it aside. With some effort he got to his feet and staggered over to a bucket of water. "Time for my daily baptism." Holding his breath he plunged his head into the bucket and emerged dripping wet. He pushed his blond hair back from his face. "What's your name stranger?"

"Matthew Adams."

"Matthew – one of the gospel writers, a bringer of good news. Do you bring good news to me? I guess you did in the form of a whiskey bottle. My name's Gabriel Torch. Like the angel Gabriel who makes astounding announcements, and a torch that can light the way or burn things out of existence."

Matt didn't know what to make of the man or his pronouncements. "Reverend Torch, Jeb says you run the telegraph station when you're not fulfilling your duties as a minister. Does it keep you busy?"

Torch shrugged, "It's hard to remember what comes and goes. The telegraph station is closed on Sundays, that's the day I save souls. Come to my service tomorrow and maybe I can save yours. Mine unfortunately is lost.

"Your horse is ready." Jeb emerged from the back of the stable leading Matt's horse. "Had to tighten all four shoes. That'll be 10 cents for each of them."

Matt knew none of the shoes had been loose and if they were, they couldn't have been tightened that quickly. He handed over 40 cents and headed back to the cabin, determined to return the following morning for Reverend Torch's service. It was almost noon when he reached the cabin. Alex and Ben were already on their horses. JB was tightening his saddle. He looked up at Matt, "Right on time. All set?"

"Yep, let's go steal some gold."

TBC


	6. Saturday Night

Later That Evening

Wearing a royal blue dress that flattered the line of her neck, showed off her creamy shoulders and clung to her hips, Kitty confidently started down the steps from her suite. Heads turned with looks of naked admiration. Caleb and Doc were standing by the bar in their best suits, which in Doc's case meant his 10 year old "new" one. They looked towards the stairs and saw Kitty descending. Doc's face broke into a broad smile. Caleb hurried over and extended his hand. "Kitty, you look spectacular. That color is perfect for you, and the fabric and cut accentuate your – may I say assets?" They laughed and she walked out the batwing doors with Caleb on one arm and Doc on the other.

The sociable was buzzing when they arrived and they quickly grabbed one of the few remaining tables. "Kitty, you and Doc sit, I'll go get some punch and snacks." Caleb picked up a tray and took his place in the food line. Kitty sat beside Doc, and took in the room. It was festively decorated with streamers and flowers, couples were milling around and off to the side, Sam was playing sweet tunes on his fiddle. Her eyes welled up.

"You're thinking about Matt aren't you?" Doc put a hand on hers.

She bit her lower lip and nodded, "Over the years, we went to so many sociables just like this one. She shook her head and tried to smile. "He always said he wasn't much of a dancer, but in fact he was actually pretty good. We always had such fun. There were plenty of sociables he missed or left early, because of work. I'd be disappointed or upset, or even angry, but when he came home he'd make it up to me in ways that were better than ….." Her voice petered out. She blinked back tears. "Doc, I should go."

Doc squeezed her hand, "Kitty, stay. I miss him so much it makes my bones ache, but like I've said before, you have a life to live."

"You two appear to be having a conversation that's much too serious for a party." Caleb set a down a tray laden with glasses of punch, sandwiches and cookies. He took a seat and lifted a glass. "To my first Dodge City Sociable, may there be many more in my life." The three friends clinked glasses and drank their punch. Caleb grabbed Kitty's hand. "Let's dance. I shouldn't brag but I'm quite a good dancer."

Kitty laughed, "I'd be delighted."

Matt

Inside the cabin, the Bonds were all smiles. The robbery had gone off without a hitch and they'd come away with 9 gold bars worth $8,000 each. Not a bad evening's work.

JB started placing the bars in a large sack, "This was like taking candy from a baby, quick and easy."

Matt lifted a gold bar. "JB, this was just a small part of the shipment. It surprised me we didn't try to take more."

"Matthew, that's why I'm the brains of the operation. I knew when the gold was being moved from one wagon to another, and when the extra guards were coming on. I timed it perfect so we could cause a commotion, grab some bars and get out. Going for more would have risked us getting caught. Matthew, I understand your disappointment and respect your thinking about going for more. Don't worry, you'll get your chance at being part of bigger things."

JB tied the sack shut and picked it up. "I'll lock this up in the shed with everything else. Then I'm going to bed. Matthew, remember you're sleeping up in the loft with Alex and Ben. Take the empty bed and try not to dream about that kitty all night. I don't want you keeping Alex and Ben awake."

Washington DC

Seated on a comfortable sofa in his spacious living room, Abraham Davidson stared into space with his arms crossed in front of him. His wife, Lorraine, stood silently in the doorway watching him brood. She brushed a strand of silky, dark hair from her face and walked across the room to the liquor cabinet. "I believe a drink is in order." She filled two glasses with brandy and handed him one before sitting beside him. "Something is really troubling you, want talk about it?"

"Darling, I've mentioned to you that someone in the War Department is leaking information to a bunch of criminals. I can't tell you more, so much is classified or confidential information."

"My love, I've never asked you to compromise your principals, and never will. You know that. But I feel something other than the leaks is troubling you.

He looked into his wife's large brown eyes. When they met just over 2 years ago. he was 60 and she was 28. He'd been a widower for 10 years, and thought he'd never marry again. Then she appeared, vibrant, beautiful and smart. She re-awakened a part of him that he thought was gone forever, the ability to love. Amazingly she loved him too.

"You are a wise woman, Lorraine, there is something else." He sighed deeply. "A letter reached my desk today from someone in Dodge City, Kansas. It was – it was written from the heart – it was - filled with pain yet asking for hope, even a sliver of hope." He took a long drink of brandy. "I don't know how to answer such a letter."

"You will figure it out Abraham. You are a good man." She stood and got the brandy from the cabinet and refilled his glass.

Matt

On his back in bed, with two men snoring in the beds beside his, Matt stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to sleep and he didn't want to stay awake. Sleep meant nightmares about Kitty. Staying awake meant worrying about what the next days would bring. He'd helped the Bonds with a robbery to reinforce his cover. Luckily no shots were fired, but what about the next robbery? Would he have to choose between blowing his cover and seeing an innocent person get shot? Would he have to decide which action would ultimately save the most lives?

His head was throbbing and his body filled with tension. He had to find a way to rest. It was important that he stay sharp and keep his wits about him. Tomorrow he'd talk to Reverend Torch after the Sunday service. Maybe he'd figure out who the informant was before anyone else got hurt.

TBC


	7. Sunday Morning Blues

Sunday Morning

Dodge

Kitty rolled over in bed and sank deeper into her pillow. Saloons couldn't open until 2PM on Sundays, so there was no reason to get up this early. No reason to stay in bed either, with Matt not here. When he was, he'd rise early, still weary from dealing with drunken cowboys all night, and quickly make his morning rounds. The town would be in a Sunday morning slumber, so he'd hurry back, shed his clothes and slide back into bed. His big, strong, calloused hands would move across her flesh, caressing every inch of her body with impossible tenderness. They'd make love oh so slowly, bringing each other to intoxicating heights. Then afterwards, because he'd had been up most of the night, Matt would fall asleep in her arms and she'd snuggle close, feeling safe and warmed and loved.

She sat up, forcibly pushing thoughts of Matt from her mind. She didn't know where he was, what he was doing or if he was hurt or worse. Her letter to the head of the War Department had gotten no response, and she wondered it had even been received. Feeling too unsettled to sit still, she got up and turned her mind to last night's sociable. It had been fun. Doc and Caleb were her escorts but it was Caleb who kept her laughing and dancing.

Smiling at the memory she opened the window to let in the cool morning air. She looked outside and spied Marshal Jackson across the street, making morning rounds. Jackson seemed like a good man, always courteous when he stopped by the Long Branch, yet he seemed overwhelmed by the job. It didn't help that he was constantly criticized for not doing things the way folks were sure Matt would.

She was still watching him, when out of the corner of one eye she saw a shadow move and a gun flash.

"Marshal Jackson, behind you – a gunman."

Startled, Jackson looked up at her window. A shot rang out. Jackson grabbed his gun and fired back before collapsing. Blood poured from the gaping hole in his side. Time stood still for a long second before folks streamed onto the street. Doc flew down his stairs to the two bloodied bodies. Kitty quickly threw on clothes and joined him.

"They're both dead Kitty." She put her hand on Doc's back, knowing he hated the senseless loss of life. "I recognize the man who shot Jackson, Doc. Just a hothead that Jackson locked up for a night, for being drunk and disorderly."

"What happened?" Caleb broke through crowd to join Kitty and Doc.

"I was watching from my window and yelled to the marshal that a gunman was behind him. Instead of turning around, he looked up at me." She shook her head sadly. "Matt would never have made that mistake." With a heavy sigh she walked away.

Caleb watched her go. There was that name – Matt – Matt Dillon. Kitty never talked about him, but others did. He needed to know more. The pull he felt towards Kitty was growing stronger.

Oklahoma

After a mostly sleepless night, Matt rose quietly so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping Bonds. He quickly saddled his horse and headed to town for the Reverend Torch's Sunday service, and an opportunity to talk to him about telegrams. As he rode, the oddity of going to a religious service struck him. Other than weddings and funerals, he hadn't been to one in years. As a boy he'd gone with his mother every week. The fragrance of the lavender soap she used on Sundays, gave the air around her a special sweetness. She loved the smell of lavender, but considered scented soap an indulgence. On special occasions his pa gave her the creamy, scented soap wrapped in pretty tissue paper. After he was killed, she used it sparingly to make it last. She died before using it up.

His jaw clenched. That part of his life was locked in a corner of his heart. Only Kitty had the key.

He reached the General Store. A sign in the window that had read, _Cash only – No credit,_ had been replaced by: _Enter All – The Lord Forgives._ He took off his hat and went inside. Two rows of side-by-side chairs were in front of an empty table. Three farm women, in faded dresses, sat in the center of the front row. At the end of the second row sat the saloon woman in her dingy, red dress. She wore no make-up, and looked so pale that Matt wished he could take her to Doc. If she worked for Kitty, she would have been to Doc's a while ago. Matt sat in the middle of the second row. Jeb limped in followed by a toothless old man.

Reverend Torch emerged from the back room wearing minister's garb and carrying a bible. He was clear eyed, his blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He set the bible on the table and scanned the room. The saloon woman locked eyes with him. She held his gaze for a full minute. Finally he looked away and started speaking. "Today, I will speak of love. The good book says: _If I speak in the tongues_ _of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres._ My friends, that's a tall order. How can we protect, trust, hope and persevere?" The reverend looked around but avoided the saloon woman's eyes. "Let us recite the Lords Prayer to find an answer."

The service ended and Matt approached Torch to ask some questions.

"Mathew, I didn't expect to see you here." JB came in the door grinning with surprise, "Of course a man who feels guilty about a drowned kitty might be a praying sort. Wait outside. We'll ride home together."

With his chance to speak to Torch gone, Matt decided to seek out the saloon woman. He hurried to catch up "Excuse me ma'am."

She turned, "I'm not used such politeness, name's Naomi."

"Matthew Adams."

"Well Mathew Adams, I don't work before noon on Sundays."

"I just want to talk."

She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

Matt moved closer. The pallor of her skin and sunken cheeks were striking. "I noticed that Reverend Torch looked at you as if you shared a connection. Have you known him long?"

"He's been here two years. That's how long. I was a friend of his wife's; she worked in the Golden Palace. She was an angel, not a fallen angel, just an angel who fell on hard times. When she got sick and was dying she wanted to see Torch, so I sent for him. She wanted to forgive him for ruining her life. Problem was he didn't forgive himself. Look at him now." She shook her head, "If you want to know more ask him. I ain't no newspaper.

"Thanks for your help." He handed her a coin. She looked confused, "Why?"

"I wanted to talk."

JB emerged from the church, tucking a piece of paper into his pocket. "Let's go Matthew."

"You and the reverend friends?"

"Friends with a drunk?" He laughed, "Let's just say, a higher authority sends me messages through him."

Dodge City

Caleb waited until Doc made arrangements with the undertaker for the marshal and the shooter, and followed him to his office. "Doc, can we talk?"

"Sure, I'll make coffee." Doc had a feeling he knew what was coming.

They sat with mugs of coffee. Doc waited for Caleb to begin.

"I want to know about Matt Dillon."

"He was the marshal here for about 18 years."

"That's not what I'm asking, and you know it." Caleb smiled slightly. "I've heard talk about him - what he did, how he handled things. He sounds like quite a man. I've also heard he and Kitty were a couple. Is he dead Doc?"

Doc paused. There was much to say, but finding the right words wasn't easy. "I don't know if Matt is dead or alive. I'll tell you what I know as best I can." Doc took a sip of coffee and collected his thoughts. "Matt's the finest man I ever met, I've said before and will always say it. He's also the best US Marshal this country has seen. Not perfect mind you, although folks may be forgetting that right now, but damn he was good."

"What about him and Kitty?"

Doc rubbed his mustache. He wondered if he should tell Caleb to ask Kitty, so she could say what she wanted him to know. At the same time, talking about Matt was painful for her. He made a choice.

"Kitty and Matt were a devoted couple for a long time. I have no doubt about the depth of their love. Because of his job, Matt made enemies over the years, and was making new ones all the time. He worried that those men would try to get to him by hurting Kitty, and it happened – more than once. He carried a terrible guilt because of that."

"Why didn't he give up the job before things got that far?"

"Caleb, you write novels which means you study human nature. You may be able to understand. There were times when Matt hated that badge. He hated the killing, the violence and other things that went with it. Yet, he knew it was a job that had to be done. He'd witnessed what happens when no one enforces the law and spoilers have their way. He also knew he had the ability to do the job. Years ago, he took off the badge and tried to walk away. A friend spoke the truth to him about the job - _most men can't do it, but you can. Maybe that's too bad for you, but there's nothing you can do about it."_

Doc looked into Caleb's eyes. "So he continued wearing the badge but it put Kitty in danger. He hoped he could protect her, but the time came when she was hurt bad, so bad I thought she wouldn't make it. Matt's love, their love, pulled her through. She healed, regained her strength and seemed happy, but Matt was worried that it would happen again. He knew he couldn't change his past so he decided she'd be safer and better off without him. I don't know the details, but he took a dangerous assignment that paid lot of money. He figured he wouldn't survive, and the money will go to Kitty. The way he's thinking, that's the best outcome. Caleb, I don't agree with his decision, but he made it out of love." Doc rubbed his mustache, "Now, I've said way too much."

Caleb set down his cup, "No Doc, I needed to know these things, and I will never say anything that that will hurt Kitty or bring back painful memories. The path she was on was not an easy one." He stood to leave, "You know Doc, I'm glad I'm not that Dillon fellow. I've never had to face the things he had to and hope I never do."

TBC


	8. All On a Sunday Night

Dodge

It was eerily quiet in the Long Branch, even for a Sunday evening. The few customers lingering at the bar were speaking in muted tones as they nursed their beers. The death of Marshal Jackson had cast a cloud of gloom over the town. He wasn't dearly beloved or highly respected. He hadn't been marshal long enough for that, and besides, feelings for the man he'd replaced ran high. But, the killing of a lawman left everyone unnerved.

Kitty sat with Caleb and Festus at a small table in the back. She lifted a pitcher of cold beer and filled three glasses. "Poor Marshal Jackson. He always seemed overwhelmed by the job."

Festus took a long swallow from his mug. "Before Matthew left, he said that Jackson wasn't fixed on whether ta have a deputy or not. That's why I been fishin a lot. Then jus yesterday, Jackson started jawin with me about me takin back my deputy job. Said he'd come ta think he needed a body who knowed folks 'round here an thar ways." Festus shook his head. "Ah feel bad, real bad. Ah jus can't figure him lookin up at you, Miss Kitty, instead a behind his self, like ya yelled ta do. Matthew would a never done that."

They fell silent. Kitty wanted to lighten the mood. "Caleb, it's wonderful that your publisher loved your final chapter, and your new book is selling well already."

"Thank you." Caleb smiled, "It seems I'm not alone in liking happily-ever-after endings."

"Shucks Caleb." Festus interrupted, "Everybody likes stories that end fine and dandy, like in them thar fairy tales. I'll tell ya somethin, iffin I could read, first thing I'd glue my eyeballs to is a happily-ever-after story like yours.

Caleb laughed, "Thank you Festus. I'm honored. In fact my publisher is pushing me to start another book."

"Do you have any story ideas yet?" Kitty refilled their glasses.

"I've been thinking of a few - a girl dresses like a boy and joins a cattle drive, or a stage coach robber falls in love with a passenger, or a gunfighter takes over a town. I'm not sure yet." He didn't mention that for all of his ideas, he hadn't been able to get beyond one sentence. He was suffering from the worst writer's block he'd ever had. Stories usually flew from his pen. Right now he felt completely dry.

Kitty was about to speak, when the batwing doors slammed open.

"Well, well, well it's Marshal Dillon's redhead." A massive, bald man with a jagged scar across his cheek walked in. "Surprised to see me, Red?" He grinned maliciously, showing two broken front teeth. "I know you remember me. I'm an unforgettable kind of man. Maybe you forgot the name. It's Jay Taymore, I'm here to make Dillon pay for what he done to me. Starting with you suits me fine."

Kitty stared unflinchingly at the man. "I do remember you. Matt tracked you down like the animal you are. You were sent to prison for life and deserved it."

"No prison is strong enough to hold Jay Taymore. And it's not just prison Dillon has to pay for, it's this." Taymore pointed to the ugly scar that crossed his face.

"You attached Matt with a knife. When he fought you off you did that to yourself."

Caleb was frozen in his chair, barely able to breath. He looked at Kitty. Instead of fear, as he expected, he saw courage and pride, pride for Dillon.

Taymore grabbed Kitty's arm and yanked her from her chair. She tried to pull away and hit him across his face. Festus stood and pulled out his gun. "Ya goin back ta jail."

Gripping Kitty with one huge hand, Taymore, knocked over the table over with the other. Festus stumbled back, his gun fired into the ceiling. Taymore yanked Kitty towards him. She stumbled but regained her footing and kicked him in the shin. "Bitch." He flinched but didn't lose his grip on her arm. He pulled his knife from his belt. "I'll carve up your pretty face and then go kill Dillon."

Caleb jumped to his feet and took a step towards Taymore, "Dillon isn't here, he quit his job." He was surprised to hear the steadiness in his own voice.

"Dillon's no quitter. He's here." Taymore started pulling Kitty towards the door. She struggled mightily, but the massive man had an iron grip. Festus was back on his feet but didn't shoot for fear of hitting Kitty. In a flash, she leaned over and bit Taymore's hand. He let go for an instant. She ducked. Festus pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He gun jammed. Taymore laughed and reached for Kitty.

"Taymore." Sam stood behind the bar with a shotgun in his hands. No one had been watching him, so he'd been able to grab his rifle from the bottom shelf.

In one swift movement Taymore threw his knife at Sam. Sam fired. Taymore went down with a bullet in his chest. The knife hit a whiskey bottle. Glass and booze sprayed the bar.

Sam ran to get Doc. Festus made sure Taymore was dead and went to Kitty,

Caleb watched for a second before going to Kitty's side. He suddenly had a deeper understanding of what Doc had said that morning. Kitty had just been attacked because of an enemy from Dillon's past. It was horrible for her, but at the same time she was proud of the man. It was complicated, but he was starting to hope that Kitty was ready to consider a less complicated life with a less complicated man. He went to her and took her hand. "You are amazing. I know I wasn't much help. I…"

"You stood up and spoke. Sometimes that's the best a person can do. Thank you."

Oklahoma

JB looked around the table to make sure Alex, Ben and Matt were paying attention. "This morning, I got the information about our next job, and I worked out all the details. We're riding to Oklahoma City tomorrow to rob a jewelry store."

Ben frowned. "A jewelry store in Oklahoma City? Can't we rob a bank or something?"

"You're right in your thinking Ben, most jewelry stores out here ain't worth robbing, but this is different. You see boys, the War Department wants to give Queen Victoria a special gift for some big celebration over in England. They wanted jewelry made by an American jeweler, to show Americans can make things as good as them Europeans. Turned out, the best jeweler in the country is in Oklahoma City. I think he's from Germany or something. Anyways, the government gave him all the gold, silver, gems, and whatnot he needed to make a couple of necklaces, a bracelet and a broach. They're worth a fortune. They were just finished, and the jeweler is keeping them locked up in his store until Tuesday, when an army unit gets there to pick them up. They'll find nothing. We'll have the jewelry and be long gone. Alex, you'll be bring your tools along. They'll likely be some locks to pick."

"Sure thing boss. Say I got an idea. When we get back with the jewelry lets put a necklace on Naomi. That way when I tie her to the bedpost I can pretend she's a queen."

Ben laughed. "Yeah, and it would make smacking her naked bottom more fun, not to mention making her crawl around on the floor. It could be like she's some fancy dog. I'll make her bark."

"No boys, we're not wasting jewelry on the town whore, even temporarily. You gave me an idea though, next time I tighten a rope around her neck, I'll pretend it's a necklace."

Matt watched the three men laugh, and tried to keep his outrage at bay. JB looked at him, "Matthew, you're not enjoying yourself. Don't worry, you'll get your turn with Naomi. Fair is fair, right boys? Now let's all get some sleep. We'll be riding all day."

TBC


	9. One Long Monday

Monday

Dodge

Sitting alone in the rear of the Long Branch, Kitty held her coffee cup with two hands and stared down into the hot, dark liquid. She'd already been to the post office to see if there was an answer to the letter she'd sent to Washington. There was not. Part of her had given up hope of ever getting a response, but still, she checked the post office several times a day. She desperately needed answers. Where was Matt? What was he doing? Was he alive or …."

"Good morning. Could a gentleman possibly find a cup of coffee here?"

She looked up into Caleb Carson's broad smile and couldn't help but smile back. "You've come to the right place. Have a seat." She lifted the coffee urn and filled a cup for him.

"Kitty, you were so brave last night when that Taymore man came bursting in. Festus and Sam knew what to do. I was just - well – I'm …"

"Caleb you spoke up to him, that took courage. Everyone can't be …."

"Matt Dillon."

She bit her lower lip and whispered, "That's not what I was going to say."

He paused for a moment, unsure of where to take the conversation. "Kitty, yesterday was a hard day for you and for all of Dodge. Let's get away from it for a while. I'll get a basket of food from Delmonico's, and we'll have a picnic in the countryside. It will be fun. If nothing else, we can play with the crazy story ideas bouncing around in my head. What do you say?

Kitty looked into his eager, gleaming eyes. It would be nice to get out of town for a while. "That sounds lovely. I'll bring a bottle of wine and we'll make a day of it."

Washington DC

Abraham Davidson's assistant, Jimmy, stood in front of his boss's desk with a stack of papers. He handed the top sheet to Davidson. He read it quickly and slammed it down on the desk. It was the report about Saturday's theft of US gold bars. Another crime that couldn't have been committed without inside information. The situation was worsening, and his only hope was that Dillon had found the Bond gang and infiltrated. He ran his fingers through his graying hair. "What else do you have for me, Jimmy."

"Here's a wire from Dodge City, Kansas."

Davidson's heart sank as he read.

 _I regret to inform you that Marshal Jackson was killed in the performance of duty. Doctor Galen Adams._

"Damn. Don't I ever get good news?" Davidson let out a huge sigh. "Jimmy, get me the list of certified US Marshals and where they're assigned. Jackson was killed in Dodge, I have to find a replacement."

"Well he didn't last long." Jimmy raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

Davidson looked up sharply. "Survival's lot easier at a desk job, than putting your life on the line as a US Marshal."

Looking properly remorseful Jimmy nodded, "Of course. I'll go get that list." He set the the remaining papers on the desk. Davidson started rifling through them.

"Sir, is there something in particular you're looking for?"

"I was hoping for a message from somewhere in Oklahoma territory." Davidson scanned Jimmy's face for a reaction.

"I didn't see one but I can check again when I go get that list."

Davidson sighed, "Yes, do that." He watched the affable 30-year-old walk towards the door. "Jimmy, you've worked for me for what – 2 years now?"

"Just over 2 years sir. Remember, your wife was kind enough to recommend me. She's know me and my family for quite some time."

"Ah, yes, I do remember. Go on and get that list."

Dodge City

Sitting by Silver Lake, just outside of Dodge City, Caleb put his notebook aside and smiled at Kitty, "We've managed to eat all of the chicken, corn and apple pie, and I've filled an entire notebook with thoughts about: ladies' shoes, the price of whiskey, snobby women, the best fishing holes in the county and a zillion other things, but our bottle of wine is unopened. That should be corrected immediately, don't you think?"

"I certainly do think." Kitty opened the bottle and filled two glasses. It had been a fun afternoon. They'd talked and laughed about dozens of things, none of them serious. Caleb had taken notes in the hope that a topic they touched upon, would break the writer's block that was plaguing him.

He looked up at the vast sky with its the sunset hues of pink and purple. "What a magnificent sight."

"It is glorious isn't it?" Kitty finished her drink and refilled their glasses. They sipped in silence, side by side, enjoying the peaceful beauty around them. The air grew cold. She shivered slightly. Caleb instinctively put an arm around her. She stiffened and he quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be Caleb. I'm sorry. I-I don't know what to say or how to explain. My reaction must seem strange after we've spent so much time together and even danced at the sociable the other night."

He smiled gently. "No need to apologize or explain. It's been a lovely day, and nothing can spoil it. Let's get back to town."

Oklahoma City

The Bonds rode into Oklahoma City under cover of night. Saloons were still open but few people were on the streets. The men clustered in an alley to get instructions from JB. "The jewelry store is two doors down. We'll go in the back way. Alex you'll pick the lock.

The 4 men silently made their way to the rear of the store. Alex pull two silver tools from his pocket and set to work. The lock snapped open in less than a minute. JB led the way inside. "Don't light a lamp. With the full moon shining in the window, there's enough light. Ben, go keep watch on the front door."

Alex, JB and Matt quietly walked around the shop. They peered into a display case filled with rings, bracelets and necklaces, but nothing was worth stealing. Matt pointed to the wall across the room, "There's the wall safe. Should we search for the key?"

"That would take too long. Alex go and pick the lock."

Alex worked furiously, surrounded by silence. After 10 minutes, he was dripping with sweat. He rubbed his hands on his pants to dry them and worked for a few more minutes. "Any chance we can find the key to this thing. It's awful complicated."

"Who's there, who's there." An old man in a robe and slippers shuffled in from another room holding a lantern in the air. "Leave now, you good for nothings."

All eyes turned to the old jeweler shuffling towards them. JB shrugged, "You should have stayed in bed Pops. Now I'll have to kill you." He went for his gun. Before it was out of the holster, Matt drew and fired at the old man. His bullet struck. The old man stumbled back and fell to the floor. Matt hurried over and knelt over the body with his back to JB. He leaned forward as if listening to the old man's heart and put his lips to his ear. "Play dead or that man will make sure you are. I winged you. It's not bad. We'll be gone soon and you can get to a doctor."

The old man gave a tiny nod. He pushed a gold ring off his pinky and pressed it into Matt's palm. "This belonged to my late wife. She wants you to have it." He closed his eyes and held his breath.

Matt called over his shoulder. "He's dead. I'll go through his pockets to see if the key to the safe is on him."

"What do you mean dead?" JB stepped towards Matt. "Looked to me like you barely got his shoulder. Move, let me have a look."

Matt didn't budge. "I'm too good a shot to just wing a man." He found the key in the jeweler's back pocket. "Got it. " He stood and dangled the key in the air.

"SHERIFF, SHERIFF, A SHOT FROM THE JEWELER'S" "I HEARD IT TOO." A crowd was gathering outside the store.

"Damn." JB yanked the key from Matt's hand, "Let's get this done." He ran to the safe, unlocked it and grabbed the velvet bag that sat inside. "Let's go." They raced out the back just as the sheriff and a group of men burst in the front.

The old jeweler opened his eyes. With a hand on his wounded shoulder, he managed to get to his feet. He had a story to tell, but decided not to say too much. The man with the clear blue eyes might not want him to. He whispered to his wife _, Mina, dear one. I don't know why you wanted me to give that man the ring I made for you. You wore it 'til you died and I've worn it ever since. But you wanted him to have it, and you know best dear one._

Two men went to the old man to help him get to the doctor. The sheriff ran out the back door. There was no sign of the thieves.

Matt and the Bonds were riding hard. Matt turned around in his saddle. "No one is following." JB answered gruffly, "Just keep riding." He kept his eyes on Matt the whole ride home. He had some thinking to do about him.

Washington DC

Abraham Davidson walked into his house carrying a brief case that was bulging with papers. The aroma of fresh baked bread and fried chicken greeted him."

"Set that brief case down and I don't want to hear a thing about work." Lorraine brushed her lips across his and smiled, "Supper is ready, and then we're going to the theater."

He took her in his arms and kissed her neck. "I'm starving. I'll be there as soon as I put my bag away." He put his brief case in the hall closet, looking at it with some regret. The letter from Kitty Russell was in it, and weighed heavily on his mind. He'd planned to try to answer it tonight, but it that have to wait another day.

TBC


	10. Tuesdays Thoughts

Tuesday Night

Dodge City

It had been a slow night in the Long Branch and by the time Kitty walked her last two customers to the door, Sam had already piled the chairs up on the tables. She turned and watched him push the broom up and down the room with practiced efficiency. Sam Noonan was a good man, the kind of man who liked to do a job well no matter what it was. He was also a good friend, to her and to Matt. She watched for another second.

"Sam, you miss him too, don't you?"

Pausing mid-motion Sam looked at her, knowing exactly who she was referring to, "Miss Kitty, he's always been an awfully good man to have around. I wish he was here." A smile touched his craggy face. "Now and again, he'd ask me to take care of certain things or join a posse. It made me feel good, knowing he believed in me like that. It made me believe in myself. Of course he didn't come to me for advise, he had Doc and – well – mostly you – to turn to." He continued sweeping. "The marshal didn't open up to many people, and Miss Kitty, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but that's something you and he have in common."

Kitty smiled gently, "You're right Sam. No one will ever know me the way Matt did." Her stomach lurched. She'd spoken of Matt in past tense. "Sam, you go on. I'll dry the glasses. I have things to think over and being busy helps. Good night."

She polished glass after glass, and tried to sort things out. She would never love anyone the way she loved Matt, but she couldn't balance on this edge of uncertainty forever. She needed answers. The letter she'd sent to Mr. Davidson had been painful to write, but she had to know if she should fan the flicker of hope that lived in her heart or stamp it out. Then there was Caleb. He wasn't in love with her, not yet, but with the slightest encouragement he would be. She so enjoyed his companionship. He hadn't stopped by tonight, because he was trying to write, and she'd missed his company. They had fun together and when she was with him, she could keep her mind off Matt. It was all so complicated and confusing. She needed answers.

Washington DC

Abraham Davidson went to the hall closet and retrieved a letter from his brief case. Lorraine had gone to bed, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. The letter he held in his hands had started to invade in his dreams. He went into the living room and poured himself a shot of whiskey, before sitting down to re-read the letter.

 _To Mr. Abraham Davidson,_

 _My name is Kitty Russell. I am the owner of the Long Branch saloon in Dodge City, Kansas. I believe it is widely known as one of the best and most upstanding saloons in Kansas._

 _I am writing to inquire about US Marshal Matt Dillon. It is known by many, in my part of the country, that Marshal Dillon and I have been in a serious relationship for quite some time. We long planned to share our lives more fully, when the time came for him to retire._

 _Mr. Davidson, I'm sure you know the circumstances surrounding the attack on me by Jude Bonner and his men. Many details came out in the trial, and people talk. There has been much speculation about what Bonner and his men actually did to me. All of it is true. I wish what happened to me on no one, not my worst enemy, not even on the worst person in the world. I was destroyed – body, mind, heart and soul. The skill and care of Doctor Galen Adams kept me from descending into death, but it was the love of Matt Dillon that brought me back to life. So, against all odds I became whole again._

 _I tell you these things to show that I have standing not only in the community of Dodge City, but more importantly in the life of US Marshal Matt Dillon. From what I learned from Doctor Adams, Matt accepted a dangerous mission from you, for which he'll be paid a considerable amount of money. Doc believes that Matt won't survive the assignment, and he intends the money to go to me. Mr. Davidson, if you are a man who loves or has loved, you understand that all the money in world will not replace Matt Dillon in my life._

 _I respectfully ask for any information you can give about Matt's assignment and whereabouts. I'd like to know what measures, if any, you are taking to insure his safe return. I would appreciate honesty in your reply._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Kitty Russell, Dodge City, Kansas_

Davidson set the letter down and drank his whiskey. He resisted pouring another. His thoughts were jumbled enough. How does a person answer such a letter – such a woman? Dillon thought he deserved to die because of what happened to Kitty Russell, and what might happen to her in the future. He, Abraham Davidson, hesitated but gave him the job that would kill him, because he needed it done and Dillon was his best bet. How do you explain to a woman that you'd sent the man she loves to die? Davidson poured himself another whiskey. He wasn't brave enough to do it today, maybe tomorrow.

Oklahoma

JB sat in the Golden Palace with Alex, Ben and Matt. He threw back a shot of whiskey and thought about the jewelry story heist. The velvet bag had yielded the valuables they expected, yet the robbery left him unsettled. He could have sworn Matthew had merely winged the old jeweler before declaring him dead. That meant either Matthew was lying or his own eyes deceived him. He had some thinking to do to figure it out.

Alex looked up from his beer, "Ain't it my turn with Naomi?" He yelled across the room, "Naomi, get over here."

Matt saw the terror in Naomi's eyes, and plastered a grin on his face, "JB you said something about me having a turn with Naomi. How about now?"

Alex smiled slyly at Matt, "Eager ain't you? JB, it's OK with me. Let him have a turn."

JB looked up, " Sure, sure it's on the monthly tab, don't matter who goes when."

Matt grabbed Naomi's arm and pulled her up the stairs.

JB watched him go. Matthew did all the right things, but something was starting to feel off. He poured himself another shot of whiskey. "Alex and Ben, Mathew's real fast with that gun, right?" Alex nodded. Ben smiled, "One of the best I've seen." JB stroked his bushy mustached, "Funny we've never heard of a Matthew Adams. You'd think a gunman like that would have a reputation." He set down his whiskey without finishing it. "Let's get home. I got some thinking to do."

Naomi and Matt disappeared inside her room. She closed the door and faced him. His heart squeezed at how ill she looked. "Well Matthew Adams, you must want more than talk this time. JB squeezes a rope around my neck until I'm blue. Alex ties me to the bedpost. Ben spanks me with a whip or makes me crawl around like an animal. What's your pleasure?"

Matt pointed to a tall screen that stood at the side of the room. "Naomi, go behind there and get changed into a nightgown or whatever warm thing you wear to bed. Then get under the blankets. I'll sit in the armchair. I just want to talk. If you don't want to tell me anything, go to sleep."

Mystified, Naomi hurried behind the screen and got into a long sleeved cotton nightgown. It was tattered but still warm and comforting. She slid under her one blanket and watched Matt.

He sank into the armchair across the room from her bed. She couldn't help but notice how tired and sad he looked. Her heart went out to him, a strange feeling for her.

Matt felt her eyes and sat up straighter. "If you feel like talking, I'd like to know about Reverend Torch's wife."

She turned over on one side. "I'll tell you what I know. I don't think she'd mind. She showed up here a few years back and I could tell she used to be beautiful. Being a whore here is the lowest of the low, and that's how far she'd fallen, yet she was sweet and kind. We became friends. She was sick when she got here and got sicker every day. When she was dying she told me about her past. She was 17 when she married Gabriel Torch. She loved him, but he was busy with his job. He was head of a big church and trying to build his reputation. Her family lived far off, and it's hard for a minister's wife to make friends, so she was lonely. A traveling salesman came along and flirted with her. She was flattered and let him kiss her. It happened once, but someone from Torch's congregation saw and spread the word. He was angry and embarrassed and threw her out. Her family was ashamed of her. She had no money and did what she could to survive. Things went from bad to worse and she ended up here, sick like me. When she was dying she desperately wanted to see him, so I wrote to Torch. To my shock he came. She was on her deathbed and it wasn't pretty. She weighed no more than a child and coughed up blood. When he held her, her eyes lit up. She told him she loved him. He asked her forgiveness and she gave it before she died. Matthew, the thing is he never forgave himself. A man who can't find a way to live with what he's done in the past, is a terrible thing. So, Reverend Torch is a drunk who dispenses Sunday morning wisdom, and does what he can to get his whiskey supply."

Naomi was spent and drifted off to sleep. Matt drifted off too. His was not a peaceful slumber.

TBC


	11. What Morning Reveals

The Next Morning

Matt

Back cramping, Matt's stirred uncomfortably in the armchair in Naomi's room and pried his eyes open. He pushed himself to his feet and twisted his torso to stretch his achy back.

Naomi watched from her bed across the room. Matthew Adams had a masculine power so deep and real that he could let his kindness show. Maybe, if she'd met a man like that back in the days when she was young and hopeful, things would have gone different and she wouldn't be a used-up whore dying in a dusty town. "Who is she, Matthew?"

"Who?"

"Kitty, you talk in your sleep quite a lot."

"Oh - a pet cat from when I was a kid."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm the town whore not an idiot. Kitty ain't no cat. The way you call her name and say you're sorry tells me she's a woman, a woman you love."

He sat down to pull on his boots.

Naomi wasn't giving up. "You sounded real sorry about something that happened to this woman, Kitty."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh I see."

"What do you THINK you see." He was surprised to feel himself grow angry.

""I SEE you didn't talk to her about the things haunting your dreams."

"I couldn't, too many things from my life were already touching hers in terrible ways."

"Matthew, a woman has a right to love who she wants the way she wants. It ain't right to make her choice for her."

Matt buckled on his gun belt, and picked up his hat. "Like I said, you don't know what you're talking about."

He left quickly, shaking off the unease Naomi's words had caused. He'd done the best thing for Kitty, the best thing for her future. He put on his hat and went to the stable to get his horse. Torch was sitting in a stall, awake but bleary eyed. A stupid grin spread across his face, "Well it's Matthew, the bringer of good news. I hope it's in the form of breakfast in a bottle from JB."

Matt looked at him with disgust. "I spent the night in town, I'm just heading back to the cabin now."

"Better get going. JB likes to keep track of his men." Torch slid back into the straw and fell asleep.

Matt shook his head and rode off.

Washington DC

Jimmy walked into his boss's office holding a stack of papers, and gingerly set them in front of Davidson. "Good morning sir." His tone was respectful. Davidson was growing moodier, grumpier and more suspicious every day. All of which he tried to pretend not to notice.

Davidson looked up sharply. Jimmy saw he hadn't slept well. "Would you like me to get you some coffee, sir?"

"No, no." Davidson rifled through the mail and leaned back in his chair. "That's all for now. Let me know if anything comes in from Oklahoma territory."

Davidson watched his assistant leave. Jimmy could be the informant, but there was no proof, besides his wife had recommended him, and she was a great judge of character. There were many other possibilities - the department telegraph operator, the liaison to the White House, the head of records, even the cleaning woman. Maybe he should fire them all. He sighed, knowing that was ridiculous. Damn it Dillon come up with a name.

Matt

Matt rode to the cabin feeling edgy. Naomi's words had unsettled him, he hadn't slept well in weeks and he was well aware of JB's growing distrust. He had to find that name before time ran out. He tied his horse outside the cabin and peered in the side window. No one was stirring, so he wandered over to the shed, long believing it was the place that held all clues. He yanked at the combination lock, in case JB had just this once, left it open. No such luck. He was about to walk away when inspiration struck, the kind of intuition he'd learned to trust over the years. He pictured the numbers written on the cabin wall in chalk; the tally of the men, women and children the Bonds had killed. After JB shot his cousin, he'd changed the numbers to, 15 – 4 – 2, and said, with glee, those were his lucky numbers. Could it be that simple? Matt quickly turned the lock, Right 15, Left 4, Right 2. It snapped open. With a quick glance over his shoulder he slipped inside. The enormity of the wealth in the small space stunned him. Bags of cash stamped _Property of US Army_ stood side-by-side-by-side. The 9 gold bricks they'd stolen were in a bag next to boxes and bags of gold and silver coins. The velvet bag of jewelry was carelessly thrown on the floor.

He moved around the shed carefully, looking for correspondence between JB and the informant. After a half hour he'd discovered nothing, and the Bonds would be waking any minute. He was leaving when he noticed the corner of an large envelope sticking up behind the bags of cash. He grabbed it and went through the contents. There were numerous telegrams from Washington DC, with the name of the sender left blank. That made sense. Why risk the prying eyes of a telegraph operator, even a drunk one. JB would know who the wires were from. Digging further he found a letter sent by mail. It contained suggestions on where each man should go when they went their separate ways, and instructions on how to avoid capture. Matt shook his head. This informant was a shrewd one. He heart leaped. The letter was signed. He placed the envelope back where he found it, slipped out of the shed, snapped the lock shut and got on his horse. He had a name to send to Abraham Davidson.

JB woke at the sound of a galloping horse and looked out the window. Matthew was riding away. That was odd, he should be returning from his night with Naomi. He threw on clothes and ran outside. Matthew's footprints were around the shed. JB quickly unlocked it and went in. All was as it should be - almost. The envelope he'd hidden behind the cash bags had been moved a couple of inches. "Damn you Matthew Adams, or whoever you are." JB jumped on his horse, and yelled; "Abe and Ben get your sorry butts to town."

Matt ran into the stable and yanked Reverend Torch to his feet. "Wake up. I need to send a telegram"

Half drunk and half asleep Torch blinked hard, "What? No one but JB sends wires."

"Until now." He dragged Torch to the tiny telegraph office and shoved him into a chair.

"It goes to the War Department, Washington DC."

Torch rubbed his bleary eyes. "Washington – No. I don't think JB would want that."

Matt leaned over and looked Torch in the eye. The minister tried to look away. Matt grabbed him by the collar.

"Torch, I don't think you know exactly what JB and the others are up to, but you must have some idea. Get this into your head. They've killed men, women and even children. It has to stop."

"I can't."

"Why? Because JB supplies you with booze so you can drink yourself to death. Does that honor the memory of your wife? How about doing something to help protect others, something that would make your wife proud?"

A few seconds passed. Gabriel Torch nodded. "Gabriel, the angel who makes important announcements. I'm not an angel but I'll do it."

Matt wrote the name on a piece of paper and slid it over. "Send to Abraham Davidson, War Department, Washington DC. No need to name a sender.

Torch tapped out the message, "It's done Matthew. My guess is that JB will find out soon."

"Guessing ain't necessary." JB stood in the door with a gun pointed at them. He swiftly yanked Torch from his seat and pointed the gun to his head. "Matthew throw your gun way over yonder or Torch gets his head blown off. I figure a man like you won't want to see that happen."

Matt did as he was told. Abe and Ben arrived with their guns drawn, "We're here JB."

"Good, lets get these two to the cabin. I don't take with men not being loyal."

TBC


	12. Captured

AN: It this point in the story, I want to thank you all for your thoughtful comments. You are amazing. I can't PM guests so, Shirley Waldrip, thank you for sharing your thoughts. Sarah and lovingmesomeMK, thank you too. SpaceCadet, I also appreciate your comment. You may not agree with, what you perceive my view of the characters is, but people who know me, know I love a good discussion. All points of view are welcome. I apologize if I've forgotten to name any guests, I appreciate you all.

On with the show.

Oklahoma

JB held a gun to Gabriel Torch's head, so Matt didn't try to make a move. Alex and Ben soon had them on horses, with their wrists bound. JB took hold of their reins. "Alex and Ben, let's get these two back to the cabin. I have something special in mind." He got on his horse and took the lead. Ben and Alex rode on either side of the two captives, pistols ready. Matt stared straight ahead, trying to figure a way to give Torch a chance to escape. He wasn't hopeful. Torch had a white knuckled grip on his saddle horn, and was barely keeping his seat. It was clear he wasn't much of a rider.

Washington DC

Jimmy was sitting in the War Department telegraph office, hoping to placate his boss by brining him wires as soon as they came in. The operator, Grayson Jones, was a long time family friend, so it was an enjoyable way to pass the time. They were joking around when something starting coming in from Oklahoma. Grayson, picked up the signals. The color drained from his face and shock prevented him from trying to hide or fake the message. Jimmy snatched it from his hands. Nausea swept over him. His voice shook, "Grayson, don't you dare go anywhere." The operator nodded slowly, knowing it was pointless to run. Jimmy hurried to Davidson's office, but stopped outside the door and took another look at the telegram. He'd give anything to not have to deliver it. He knocked on the door and walked in. "This just came from Oklahoma territory."

Davidson grabbed the wire and stared at it for a full minute. "Jimmy, make sure Grayson Jones doesn't leave the building and send a cavalry unit to Atoka Oklahoma. My agent will be dead, and the stolen goods long gone, but there may be clues as to the whereabouts of those wretched criminals." He let out a heavy sign, "At least it's over." He got to his feet. "I'm going home."

Dodge City

Kitty was so distracted when she walked out of the post office she almost slammed into Caleb Carson. He took her shoulders and smiled, "Whoa there. You must be thinking hard."

"I'm so sorry Caleb."

"No need to apologize. I notice you visit the post office frequently. Expecting something important?"

"I don't know if I'm actually expecting anything." She sadly shook her head. "I wrote a letter to someone in Washington DC."

"About Matt Dillon?"

"Yes."

"Kitty, we've both been dancing around the name without saying a whole lot. I want you to know that I asked Doc about him. He told me about you and Dillon. He also told me that Dillon is a great man – or was."

"I'm glad you spoke with Doc."

Caleb saw the pain in Kitty's eyes. His voice was soft, "Kitty, I don't want to pressure you, but I have admit that if I stay in Dodge much longer, I won't be able to stop my feeling for you from growing beyond friendship, way beyond friendship."

She smiled gently, "Caleb, I don't know how I would have gotten through the past weeks without you. We have fun together, and it's well – nice. Caleb can I ask you to wait a little while longer? If my letter isn't answered soon, I – we – we'll talk about – things. I need more time."

"Of course, Kitty. Meanwhile, allow me to take you to lunch. Talking more about story ideas might be a good distraction." He frowned slightly, "I'm still trying to get over my writer's block. I've never been like this before. No matter how good my ideas seem, I can't get beyond a sentence or two."

She took his offered arm with an encouraging nod, "Lead on. I'll help in any way I can."

Oklahoma

Outside the cabin, JB held his gun to Reverend Torch's head, "Matthew, if you breath too hard the minister's head comes off." Matt didn't react. JB smiled. Alex and Ben were quickly removing all of the stolen goods from the shed. When it was empty, JB shoved Matt and Torch inside and made them sit. "Alex, Ben tighten the ropes around their wrists, and tie their legs together so they can't move around."

The men quickly did as they were told. JB tested the ropes to make sure they were tight enough. "Good, now lets go get some sleep. These two sent the War Department the name of my informant, so we're out of business. We'll be going our separate ways sooner than we thought, but there's time to get a good night sleep. I figure the cavalry will come, but the closest fort is more than 2 days away, and we'll be gone in the morning."

JB carefully locked the shed, and the three men went into the cabin. Alex glanced around the well-furnished room. "JB, I'm worried about leaving clues behind that could be used to track us."

"All they'll find is ashes, I'm setting fire to the place before we go - the cabin and the shed."

"You setting fire to the shed with them in it?"

"You see a reason why not?"

Alex shrugged, "Guess not." Ben nodded, "It's a good idea. And JB, I have another good idea. I've been thinking, with the silent partner and Matthew out of the picture, we can split everything three ways – you, me and Alex."

JB smiled at Ben, formed his big hand into a fist and slammed it full force into his face. Ben flew across the room and landed on his back. JB strode over and looked down, "We're sticking with what we said. The way I see it, you and Alex got lucky. It's just the two of you splitting one third. I get my third. As for the informant, the fair thing is for me to get that third too. Ain't that right?"

"Sure JB, sure." Ben rubbed his jaw and slowly got to his feet. "That's plenty. We're all rich."

"Glad you understand. Let's get some sleep."

Inside the shed Torch was pale and sweating. Matt realized the reverend hadn't had his usual doses of whiskey and was starting to feel the effects of alcohol withdrawal. "Torch, just try to take deep breaths."

The reverend smiled slightly. "You know what I'm going through, but I can't imagine it's from personal experience. You don't seem like a drinking man." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "My guess is JB and his men will ride off and leave us here to die of thirst. At least you'll be dying with a minister. If you die first, I know lots of prayers to say. There is one thing I want to know. When you wanted me to send the telegram, you talked about honoring my wife. How did you know about her?"

"Naomi."

"Ah, so you know I tossed the woman I loved out into the street because of a single indiscretion. My pride as a respectable minister was wounded. When I saw what had become of her, knowing it was my fault, I had a bitter pill to swallow."

"Naomi said your wife forgave you before she died."

"She died in my arms sick, exhausted and weighing no more than a child. There was no way I could forgive myself or live with myself. Death by whiskey seemed like a reasonable punishment."

"Doesn't seem the best use of a life, Torch."

The reverend closed his eyes, wishing his hands were free so he could rub his throbbing temples. There were things he didn't want to think about.

Matt felt a surge of sympathy. "Look, let's just see if we can figure a way out of here. Can you move your fingers?"

"No, the rope is so tight my fingers are numb."

"Let me think." He was hoping for inspiration when he heard a faint noise – quiet footsteps were outside. He motioned Torch to listen.

"You in there Matthew and Reverend Torch?"

"Naomi is that you?"

"Yep, I hate those bastards. After they hauled you two out of town I followed their tracks. I'm on foot and I ain't so strong, so it took a while. Tell me how to get you out of there."

Washington DC

Abraham Davidson unlocked the front door of his house and noiselessly walked through the hallway into the sitting room. Lorraine was in the armchair studying a notebook.

"So that's how you got your information, reading the notebooks I kept locked up. And you probably went through my brief case when I was asleep or otherwise occupied. Along with that, some clever questions after I had a few drinks no doubt helped."

Lorraine jumped in her seat and set the notebook aside. "Darling, I didn't hear you come in."

"Obviously. Lorraine, it's over. I received a telegram today with the name of the informant. It's you, no use denying it."

Silence hung in the air. Lorraine was thinking tactics. She chose tears, "Abe, I'm so sorry. It was the telegraph operator, Grayson Jones. He forced me to give him information."

"Forced you? Don't be ridiculous. My dear, you're going to jail."

The tears disappeared and she tilted her head coyly. "But darling, you and I will be richer than you ever imagined. We'll have such fun together. There's no harm done, not really." She moved closer.

He stepped back. His eyes were ice. "No harm? What about everything that was stolen, and the people who were killed along the way? What about my reputation and the reputation of my department? And what about the man who gave his all to stop your murderous crimes? He was a good man, and the woman he left behind is good woman. I'm sure you read her letter, you've read everything else."

"Ah, the saloon woman's letter. Sooo sentimental. I had a good laugh over it. She's weak just like you. You're a weak, old fool. You suspected Jimmy. A man so pathetic he needed my help to get his little desk job. Grayson Jones is a real man. He even proved his manhood right here in your bed. And – old man - I'm not going to jail."

She shoved him with all her strength and ran towards the door. He staggered backwards and fell against the wall, but remained on his feet and pulled a gun from his pocket. He fired at the ceiling. She froze and turned, "You wouldn't shoot me."

"I will shoot, but not to kill. I envision a different future for you. Scrubbing floors in a prison while your youth and beauty fade away."

"No Abe, please. We can have it good. I love you."

"Love me? That's a cruel joke." He gripped her arm and led her out the door.

TBC


	13. Moving in the Dark

Hope surged through Matt when he heard Naomi's voice outside the shed.

"Tell me how to get you out of there."

Matt managed to scoot closer to the door so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "Naomi, turn the top of the lock right to the number 15, then left to 4 and right to 2.

"I'll try, but it's getting dark so it's kinda hard to see."

"Just take your time. I know you can do it."

The trust in Matt's voice gave her confidence, and she turned the dial slowly. All was quiet. SNAP – it opened. Naomi slipped inside the shed, breathless and dripping with sweat. "Like I said, I came on foot and I ain't strong so it took a while, but I came ready." She proudly held up a kitchen knife and slowly cut through the ropes that bound Matt's wrists and legs. Once free he quickly freed Torch. Naomi reached into her skirt pocket. "I found this on the floor of the telegraph office." She handed Matt his gun.

Matt took her by the shoulders. "Naomi, you're amazing." She glowed with pride.

He slipped out of the shed to make sure all was clear, and beckoned Torch and Naomi to follow. The three got a short distance from the shed, when Matt heard voices and pushed his companions into the shadows. They held their breath and listened.

"Ben, are you sure about this?

"Alex, JB is cheating us. It's fair we each get one third of everything. We just took what's ours. Let's ride off before he wakes up."

"Hold it." Matt stepped out of the shadows with his gun drawn. "Real quiet now, drop those bags, and toss your guns over here." Shocked that Matt had somehow gotten out of the shed, they did as they were told. Naomi gleefully ran over and picked up the guns. She handed one to Torch.

Matt kept his eyes on the two men. "Reverend, gag them and tie their hands behind their backs. I'm covering you."

"Me too." Naomi held a gun steadily with two hands. "Shaking in your boots ain't you?"

Torch did what Matt asked. The biblical injunction to turn the other cheek, didn't seem appropriate at the moment. "Matthew, what next?"

"We'll lock them in the shed with their loot for now."

With panic in their eyes, Ben and Alex struggled mightily but Matt and Torch forced them into the shed, shoved the door shut and locked it. Torch glanced around, squinting in the dark, "Where's Naomi? I hope JB didn't grab her."

Matt was about to softly call her name when they heard a bone rattling cough. It was Naomi spitting up blood, and gasping for air. She could barely stand. Matt hurried over and took her arm. She was burning up; her pulse was racing. Torch felt her forehead. "Matthew, this has been too much for her, and it's getting cold. She needs to be home in bed."

"Can you take her on your horse? I want to stay and arrest JB."

"I can't. You may have noticed, I can barely stay on a horse myself."

Matt nodded, "All right, I'll go with you. Naomi will ride with me. JB's asleep so won't be leaving soon. I'll get her to town, and come back to take him on."

"I don't understand you Matthew, why not leave JB for the law to deal with?"

Matt let out a heavy sigh. "I am the law. Matt Dillon, US Marshal."

"I should have guessed." Torch chuckled, "Well at least you didn't lie about your first name. Mathew, who spreads good news."

"Let's get Naomi home."

Dodge

Caleb Carson was feeling glum. He was sitting in his Dodge House room, pen in hand, staring at a blank pad. Crumbled paper filled a trashcan and surrounded his desk. He'd been trying all day to get a story going, but nothing worked. Doubt that he could write another novel, was creeping in. He threw down his pen. There was no point in sitting here; he'd go to the Long Branch. If Kitty was busy, he'd see if Doc and Festus were around and have a beer with them until she was free. She'd join him when she could, and they'd talk and laugh and enjoy each other's company. He wouldn't mention Dillon, the letter or the future. He wished he could broach those topics, but the time wasn't right, at least not yet.

Oklahoma – The Cabin

JB opened his eyes half way. His dream about Matthew Adams had left him unsettled. A glance out the window told him he could sleep for a few more hours, but he was feeling restless. He idly looked up towards the loft. Alex and Ben weren't in bed. He blinked and blinked again. "Ben, Alex." They didn't answer. He jumped up and ran to check the loot. Just one third of everything remained. Ben and Alex had taken the rest. JB scowled, then smiled and laughed out loud. He didn't think they had the guts. If he met them again, he'd give them black eyes and buy them beers.

With no reason to hang around, he grabbed duffle bags and saddlebags, and stuffed them with the remaining valuables. He'd be rich forever. He was ready to go, except for one detail. He pulled two matched from his saddlebag, struck one and lit the cabin. He went to the shed and struck the second match "Matthew, Torch get a taste of hell before you get there." He threw the match onto the shed. It went up in flames.

Inside, Alex and Ben stomped their feet. It was all they could do. JB got on his horse and rode off.

Naomi sat in front of Matt on his horse with her head leaning back against his chest. He could feel her fever through his shirt, and pushed his horse harder, while trying not to leave Torch far behind. When they reached the Golden Palace, Torch awkwardly climbed off his horse and Matt gently handed Naomi down. Something in the distance caught his eye – smoke was spewing into the air. "Torch, look." Matt pointed in the direction of the cabin. "Get Naomi upstairs. I'm going back." He galloped towards the smoke. He'd left two men locked in the shed with no way out.

Matt raced into the clouds of smoke. The heat from the fire hit him before he saw the flames. His horse grew skittish and backed away. The cabin was blazing and the shack was already burnt to the ground. Matt's heart sank. He wanted Alex and Ben brought to justice, not this. He turned his mind to practical matters. The town was just a half-mile away and the fire was spreading. He was formulating a plan when the sky opened up, and buckets of water fell. The flames died down and he breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't move, even as the rain continued to pour. He'd been sure the Bonds would kill him after he named the informant. Now, Alex and Ben were dead, JB was gone and he was still alive. Kitty would be getting the money soon, and without him she'd be safe and able to have a good life, but what should he do now? He shivered. The air was chilly and he was getting drenched. He turned his horse towards town. He'd check on Naomi and then go after JB.

Soaked to the bone he tapped lightly on Naomi's door, "Torch, you in there?"

Gabriel Torch opened the door, "Matthew, come get dry before you catch pneumonia. The fireplace is roaring. I wanted the room warm for Naomi."

"How is she?"

"Matthew, don't talk about me like I ain't here" He went to her bed, careful not to drip on her. "How are you feeling?"

Her lips curled into a wry smile, "I'm a worn out whore dying in a flea bit town. You know Matthew, I never had much of a life. My mama was a whore in a town like this. She never saw a reason to feed me regular, and was selling my services by the time I was 12. I never did harm to no one though. I hope the Lord remembers that, when he passes judgement." Her eyes fell shut, and Matt thought she was asleep, but they fluttered open. "Matthew, you came clean about being a lawman. Now tell me the truth about the woman in your dreams, Kitty. I'm right that you love her."

"Yes." His voice was hoarse, "I love her but I'm not good for her. She's better off without me. She can't have a good life with me because of things I've done it the past. She's already suffered too much because of it. There's no way forward for us."

"Matthew, I know how men think and how women think. Sometimes a woman can see a path where a man sees only thorn bushes. What you decided for her may not be what she wants or needs. Go and talk to her. Tell her what you're thinking and then listen, really listen. Set things right."

She drifted into a fevered sleep. Matt left her side to stand in front of the fireplace. His clothes dried quickly and a glance out the window told him the rain had stopped. He went through his pockets and put every cent he had on the table. "Torch, I know she doesn't have much longer, make sure she has everything she needs."

"You going after JB?"

"Yep," Matt, tightened his gunbelt.

"Why, because you're the law?"

"He's a ruthless murderer. He's killed children. A man like that won't stop just because he's rich. He'll kill again if anyone gets in his way. I think I stand a better chance than anyone, of tracking him down. You see a reason I should leave it to someone else?"

"He could kill you."

"Yep."

"What about the woman Naomi spoke of - Kitty?"

"She's better off without me."

"That's what you say, but maybe you should take Naomi's advice and listen to what Kitty has to say."

Matt glanced at Naomi tossing in bed with sweat pouring down her face. He whispered to himself, "It's hard to watch a good woman suffer." He turned to Torch, "What's next for you?"

"When my wife died, I tried to avoid Naomi. She reminded me of my shame and guilt, so I never thanked her for taking care of my wife." Torch swallowed hard. "I'll care for her until the end, then I'll leave here and find a place that wants a minister. A town with a church that's willing to help me build a place for women with nowhere to go." He looked at Matt. "That's my plan."

Matt nodded, "I wish you luck."

"Matthew, where will you look for JB?"

"Not sure."

"Since you insist on going after him, you might want to know he was always talking about San Francisco.

"Thanks Torch."

Matt got on his horse. Naomi's words echoed in his head like a whisper in a cave. He let out a long breath and turned his horse west towards California.

TBC


	14. Pushing Through

A Week Later

"DODGE CITY STATION. PASSENGERS FOR DODGE CITY EXIT THE TRAIN."

Abraham Davidson, of the Department of War, picked up his brief case and walked heavily down the steps onto the platform. The lines in his face were notably deep. Learning that the woman you loved had played you for a fool, aged a man. He slowly made his way down Front Street making inquiries as to the location of the Long Branch, and before long was knocking on Kitty Russell's door.

"Who is it?"

"Abraham Davidson, Department of War."

She froze. It was the man she'd written to about Matt. She nervously tidied her hair and smoothed her skirt before opening the door. "Please come in."

He entered speaking with businesslike detachment, "It's nice to meet you Miss Russell." He carefully set the briefcase on a table. "I apologize for not answering your letter. I was remiss. I am here today to make a delivery." He opened the briefcase; it was filled with rows of cash. "Marshal Matt Dillon accepted a dangerous mission, which he successfully completed. He is entitled to a bonus of $25,000. He wanted it to go to you."

"What about Matt?" Her face was pale but her voice demanded an answer.

"I sent a cavalry unit to his last known location. It was – there was a fire - human remains were found. I'm sorry to say Matt Dillon is dead."

Time stopped. Davidson's last 4 words echoed in Kitty's ears. She slammed the briefcase shut and shoved it towards him. "I don't want blood money."

He saw the pain in her eyes. His voice softened and his impersonal demeanor crumbled. "Miss Russell, please listen. I can't pass judgment on Matt Dillon's choices, but I truly believe he wanted you to have this money, out of love. I know of your feelings for him, from the letter your wrote." Davidson paused to quiet his emotions. "I learned recently, in a stark and painful way, that love can be faked and used by unscrupulous people for selfish reasons. Accept the money. Give it to charity, purchase a house, do whatever, but take it. Honor Matt Dillon's wishes. His love for you was real. We both know that."

"Mr. Davidson I am truly sorry for whatever happened to you. I'm sure it's painful to talk about but …"

"Just as writing that letter was painful for you." He smiled sadly. "So, you'll accept the money?"

Her eyes grew moist, and she nodded.

Gabriel Torch

Reverend Gabriel Torch took a drink of water from his canteen. He was heading southwest, or that's the direction he believed his donkey was carrying him. Naomi had passed from the earth some days ago. Dillon's money had provided hot food and warm blankets, so she was comfortable at the end. After she died, folks in Atoka were shocked at the notion of giving the town whore a proper funeral, so he'd buried her alone. That wouldn't have bothered Naomi one bit. The solid cross that he put together marked her grave. He'd carved her first name into it, he'd never learned her last. Underneath her name he'd added, _an honorable woman_.

After the burial he saw no reason to stay in Atoka, so he traded his horse for a donkey, figuring he'd be better at riding a smaller, calmer animal. Jeb, at the stable, had never grinned so wide, as when he made that trade.

Now he rode on. Stopping for the night when his donkey stopped moving, stubbornly signaling they'd gone far enough for one day. He didn't mind, he was in no hurry. He had faith he'd come upon a town that had a church, and needed a minister. A town that would let him build a refuge for honorable women like Naomi and his wife.

Matt

After riding west for days, Matt reached the town of Cheyenne at the edged of Oklahoma territory. It was the last real town for miles so there was a good chance JB had stopped there. He decided to ask around. If he was lucky, he'd learn how far ahead JB was. He went over to a group of men playing poker outside the stable.

"Afternoon, I was wondering if any of you noticed a stranger with dark hair and a bushy mustache? Kind of a big strong man."

"You expecting something for nothing, mister?" The men played on without looking up.

Matt would gladly have thrown them a coin but didn't have one cent. He'd given everything to Torch for Naomi's care. "It's nothing worth paying for. I was just hoping to catch up to a friend." Matt started to walk away.

An old timer spoke up. "Ya mean the fella with them big duffle bags and bursting saddle bags. I wondered what all he was carrying'. He was here 3 days past. For a price, I'll tell you which way he went."

"That's all right, thanks." Matt knew where JB was headed, but the three-day lead was more than he'd hoped. He had to catch up before JB reached San Francisco and got lost in the city. Problem was, with no provisions or money, he had to stop and hunt or fish to be able to eat once a day. If he wanted to pick up his pace, he'd have to sell something and buy provisions. He searched his belongings for something to sell, and came upon the gold ring the jeweler had pressed into his hand during the robbery. He'd forgotten about it. He held it in his palm. It shined in the light and almost seemed to vibrate. It was the perfect thing to sell. He shoved it into his back pocket and walked into the General Store to make a deal.

"Hello there. What can I do for you?" The proprietor wore an eager smile.

"I have something to sell. Then I'll like to purchase some jerky, coffee and hardtack."

"All right. I guarantee a fair price for anything that has resale value. What are you selling?"

Matt put his hand in his pocket to get the ring. It wasn't there. Puzzled, he searched all of his pockets. No ring.

"Well, you have something to sell or don't you?"

"Yes, I have something." Confused, Matt searched his pockets once more. The ring was gone. The only other thing he could possibly sell was his pocketknife. It was useful and he hated to part with it, but was the least essential thing he had.

"I want to sell this knife. It's a good one."

"It's pretty good." The man tried not to show enthusiasm. "I think we can do business."

30 minutes later Matt emerged from the General Store with a good supply of jerky, hardtack and coffee, and a few coins. He slipped the coins into his back pocket and felt the ring. It must have been there all along. He couldn't figure how he'd missed it when he wanted to sell it. There was no time to fret, he had to get going. He got on his horse and headed west.

Pushing his horse as hard as he could, his thoughts turned to Kitty. She would have gotten the money by now. Maybe she even bought a house, the kind she always wanted. He pictured her sitting by a fireplace, her beautiful face glowing in the light. His throat tightened, he knew he'd never stop loving her.

Dodge

Kitty and Caleb silently stared down into their coffee cups after Kitty described Abraham Davidson's visit.

Caleb looked up, "It seems to me he delivered the money personally, because he needed you to understand how much Matt Dillon wanted you to have it. I'm glad you accepted it. Kitty, you'll never forget Dillon, and no one expects you to, but you have a life to lead."

"Doc said something like that when I talked to him about it." She slowly nodded, "And, I'll eventually figure out what to do with the money. As Doc pointed out, there is no hurry." She smiled wistfully, "Caleb, part of me wishes you'd met Matt, but a bigger part of me is glad you didn't. Both of us having memories of him might be too much for me."

He reached over and squeezed her hand. "Just don't avoid talking about him if you need to."

"Thank you." She took a deep breath, "Let's talk about something else. How's your new novel going?"

Caleb rolled his eyes. "I start something, write a sentence or two and hit a dead end. My publisher is pressuring me and I don't have one single page to send him."

"You've written over a dozen books." She smiled reassuringly. "You'll come up with something, and I'm always here to help."

TBC


	15. Survival

Two Weeks Later

JB

In Amarillo, Texas, JB was sprawled out on the bed in his hotel room. Hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling sighing with contentment left over from the night before. He'd had a fine time with a whore. She was young, almost a child, which made it a special treat, so he decided to stay one more day to have another go with her. He'd get to San Francisco soon enough. Once there he'd make up a name and a story, and live the good life. He might shave his moustache and color his hair, in case anyone came after him. No one would of course. No one knew where he was heading. Any lawmen who went searching for clues would find nothing but ashes and the remains of the men burnt up in the shed. He laughed out loud. It suddenly struck him that one of the men he'd torched was named Torch. That was a good joke. When he thought of the other man, however, the smile left his face. Matthew Adams wasn't who he said he was, and that bothered him. It didn't matter though, the man was dead.

Dodge

Kitty and Caleb were spending the afternoon on the gently sloping hill that lead down to Silver Lake. Caleb set the, all but empty, picnic basket aside and leaned back against the broad trunk of a maple tree. He looked out over the glistening water and sighed with contentment. "Kitty, I love this spot, and we picnic here so often, I've come to think of it as our special place." She made herself comfortable next to him. "I know what you mean, it's so peaceful here it's as if nothing else exists." He put an arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist. "Kitty, that circus we went to last night was fun, wasn't it?"

"Sure was. Of course, you've probably seen a lot better in New York City, but things like that don't come through Dodge very often."

"I've seen bigger and fancier in New York City, but not necessarily better. The clowns last night were hilarious, and the acrobats amazing." Caleb was quiet for a moment, and grew serious. "Kitty, I've been meaning to talk to you about New York City. We both know I haven't been able to write for many weeks. I believe I need a change of scenery to get my creative juices flowing. I'm going back to New York."

Her face dropped. It was the reaction he was hoping for. He took her hands in his. "Kitty, I'm a writer, a man of words and I've been up all night trying to think of a fine, poetic way to say something. I couldn't think of anything grand, so I'll say it plain. Will you marry me? Kitty listen, we'll spend half the year in New York and the other half here in Dodge City, where you have long time friends and a business. We'll always come back to our special spot by Silver Lake. Kitty, we can have the best of all worlds."

"Caleb, I wasn't expecting this. I - I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. Think of the wonderful times we'll have, together. Kitty, I don't want to go to New York without you, but I have to go."

She looked into his hopeful eyes. It was true that she felt good and happy when she was with him, and she did care deeply for him. A smile slowly crossed her lips. "Yes." He put his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. Her body responded and she leaned into him. Their lips separated and they smiled at each other. He gently moved a stray, hair from her face, "Let's get back to town. We have a wedding to plan."

Matt

Matt had been riding as hard as he could push his horse, subsiding on jerky and hardtack. When it got dark he camped for as few hours as possible, and made coffee in the predawn light before setting out for the day. He rode into Amarillo Texas, trail worn and red-eyed, but he knew he was closing in on JB. He saw a saloon and rode over. It would be a good place to start asking questions. A woman in a tight, red dress stood outside. Thoughts of Naomi gripped him. The woman smiled and he could see she was younger than Naomi, maybe even younger than Kitty when she arrived in Dodge. He walked towards her and saw bruises on her neck.

She eyed the tall, gaunt, bearded stranger. He looked like he might not have a nickel to spare, but it was worth a try. "Hello mister, you look like you could use some comforting."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin. "I just want to talk. What's your name?"

She took the money with suspicion. "I'm Susie, and let me guess, you want to go upstairs to do what you call talking."

"We'll talk here. Have you seen a stranger with dark hair and a bushy mustache? He would have ridden in with stuffed duffle bags and bulging saddlebags."

Susie stiffened. It sounded like the customer she had last night. The one who tied her to the bedpost, and choked her until she was blue before plunging into her again and again. Matt saw her eyes darken, "You know who I mean, don't you?" Her voice trembled. "He was here last night. I thought I was dead. I don't know his name or where he is now, but he said he'd be back. She nervously fingered the purple bruises on her neck.

Across the street in the Amarillo Hotel, JB rose from the bed in his 2nd floor room. He glanced out the window and saw Susie talking to a man. He didn't take with her going with another man while he was in town, but by the looks of the scruffy cowboy he didn't have the price of a whore, even a cheap one. He continued watching. There was something familiar about the cowboy. He put him in mind of Matthew Adams, but 15 or 20 pounds lighter and wearing a scruffy beard. It couldn't be Matthew, he'd died in a blazing shed. JB continued to watch and slowly his eyes widened. It was Matthew, but how the hell did he get out of that shed. JB went to his dresser and pulled out a pistol. Matthew wouldn't escape this time.

Matt tipped his hat, "Thank you Susie. I'm going to look around town, but I'll be back. Don't worry, I'll make sure you never have to put up with that man again." Matt turned to walk away. Susie followed him with her eyes. A sudden movement across the street caught her attention. She gasped and cried out. "Mister, up behind you, a gun." Matt turned, drew and fired at the open window. JB fell backwards. Matt raced into the hotel, and ran passed the desk clerk yelling at him to wait. He took the steps two at a time to the 2nd floor and kicked the door open. JB was sprawled out on the floor, blood pouring from his chest. He looked up at Matt. "How?"

"Naomi. She got me and Torch out of the shed. Alex and Ben were the one's locked inside, along with the loot they took."

"Who are y…" JB's eyes closed for the last time.

Matt heard footsteps and turned as a barrel chested man wearing a sheriff's star ran in with his gun drawn. "What happened here?"

Matt looked at him calmly, "This is Jason Bond, of the Bond gang. He's dead. You'll find money, gold and jewelry in this room – all stolen. I'll wire the War Department to come get it, then I'll be on my way. I'll leave the burying to you." Matt strode past the sheriff and left the hotel. No one tried to stop him.

A half hour later the telegram was sent. Matt was on his way to get his horse when he spotted Susie outside the saloon. "Thank you Susie, you saved my life."

"You probably saved mine by killing that bastard, that is until the next maniac customer comes along."

"Doesn't your boss protect you?"

"Ha, that's a laugh."

"Susie, if you're ever in Dodge City, Kansas go to the Long Branch for work. The woman who runs the place protects her girls." He paused, realizing that Kitty might not be in Dodge any more, and the Long Branch could be closed or owned by someone else. Another thought hit him. "Susie if you ever hear word of a minister named Gabriel Torch, go where he is. He'll help you."

"Well, I'll keep all that in mind." Suzie laughed. It all sounded crazy. "Take care of yourself, mister."

Matt nodded his thanks, "Good luck, to you." He got on his horse and took hold of the reins, but didn't move. For the first time in his adult life he had no criminal to hunt, no prisoner to deliver, no people to protect, no town to watch over, and no one to go home to. In fact he had no home, because for so many years Kitty had been his home. He wasn't supposed to survive this thing but he had, and now he felt empty, like hollowed out shell. His horse pawed at the ground, unaccustomed to standing at the rail with a rider on his back. Matt let out a deep breath. Naomi's word's came back to him. _Go and talk to her. Tell her what you're thinking and then listen, really listen. Set things right_. Kitty couldn't have a good life with him, he knew that, but he shouldn't have left the way he did. Naomi was right, he should have talked to her, and listened. He turned his horse east, towards Kansas and Dodge City. He had to find the right words to say, to make her understand.

Washington DC

Clutching a telegram, Jimmy ran down the hall to Abraham Davidson's office. His boss had been kind to everyone lately, but it was easy to see he was miserable. Maybe this wire would cheer him up. He hurried into Davidson's office and thrust it into his hands.

 _All members of Bond gang dead. What's left of stolen goods in custody of Amirillo Texas sheriff._

"Jimmy, send a small cavalry unit to Amarillo to pick up whatever is there."

"Yes, sir." Jimmy paused. Davidson wasn't talkative these days but maybe he'd answer some questions. "Boss, how did the Bond's die? Who killed them? And the wire isn't signed. Who do you think it's from? Could it be from Marshal Dillon, maybe he survived?"

"Jimmy, as far as we know the human remains in that burnt down shed were those of US Marshal Matt Dillon, we have no reason to believe otherwise. As for the wire – it doesn't matter who sent it. I have confidence it's real. Get those troops moving."

"Yes, sir." Jimmy hurried from the room. Davidson leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed in front of him and whispered to himself, _Matt, death is what you wished for, no one hunts down a dead man or the people he loves. If you somehow managed to survive, I wish you luck and happiness. I leave the rest to you._

TBC


	16. The Weeks Roll By

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Matt

Matt traveled mile after dusty mile towards Kansas, riding neither fast nor slow. He spent his long hours in the saddle trying to come up with the right words to say to Kitty, that is if he had the chance to say anything at all. She might be gone from Dodge, and if she wasn't, she might not want to see him. He'd been gone for a couple of months or maybe more. His sense of time was warped. He'd left Dodge City for a job he thought he'd die doing. A thing like that changes your sense of time. The sun was beating down hard, a hot spell had hit the west that wouldn't quit, and the arid land unfolding in front of him seemed endless. He kept his mind occupied by thinking about Dodge, and what he may or may not find there. If Kitty was gone, it would be for a new life, a better one than she could ever have with him. If she was still in Dodge, he had to be ready with the right words. Words that would make her understand that being together was too much of a risk for her, no matter how much he loved her, and he loved her more than anything. He wracked his brains for the words that would express all he felt, but never got much further than, hello. He wished he was a writer.

It was starting to get dark, and even though he could have ridden for another hour, he decided to stop for the night. He'd been pushing his horse too hard for too long. After tending to his horse, he opened up his bedroll and tried to get comfortable enough to rest, if not sleep. For months sleep had been his enemy, tormenting him with nightmares about Kitty. He stared up at the stars that were lighting up the vast dark sky, but found no peace, Naomi's words were being whispered by the hot breezes that floated by - _Sometimes a woman can see a path where a man sees only thorn bushes. What you decided for her may not be what she wants or needs._

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

 **A WEEK AFTER THAT**

Dodge

Inside the Long Branch, Kitty dried up a spill at one end of the bar while keeping an eye on two cowboys at the other end. A hot spell was lingering for quite a stretch, and her customers were meaner and thirstier than usual. To make matters worse, a new marshal wouldn't be arriving for weeks, and although Festus was doing his best as deputy, she and the other saloon owners were mostly on their own when it came to handling trouble. Sam was behind the bar watching the same men she was. She caught his eye, nodded towards the men and made a cutting motion across her neck. Her signal to stop serving them booze. One of the cowboys saw the signal and strutted over with his chest puffed out and his bleary eyes ablaze.

"No woman's cuttin' off my drinking. I got money an I'm drinking."

"What you're doing is leaving." Kitty put her hands on her hips."

"No I ain't." He gripped her arm. "I'm drinking."

She smiled and slammed a high heel into his foot.

"Yowww."

Still smiling, she slammed her heel into his other foot. He jumped from foot to foot, staggered backwards and fell on his butt. She looked over at his friend, "Get your buddy out of here and don't come back until you're sober."

"Yes, ma'am." He tipped his hat, grabbed his friend and dragged him passed Caleb, who had just walked in. He watched the men stumble out into the street and went to Kitty, "You never cease to amaze me. Is there nothing you can't handle?"

She looked up at him with a small smile, "I hope I handle things in New York City. I'm from New Orleans originally, but I'm not used to big city life."

"Surely you're not concerned. My dear, New York will love you, all of New York. I can't wait to show you off in the latest fashions. You will be the belle of every ball."

She laughed and took his hand. "Come let's sit."

They went to a table off to the side and Sam brought over two beers. "Kitty, now that we've set a date for the wedding, I'll arrange for travel to New York City the following day." She nodded but looked uncertain. "Kitty, is something wrong?"

"No – no, I guess I'm feeling sentimental. I have so many memories here." Her eyes grew moist. "There's so much that I shared – with – with - people I care about."

"Kitty, sometimes it's good to get away from reminders of the past. And we are starting a wonderful new life together. Besides in 6 months we'll be back."

She smiled thoughtfully and squeezed his hand. "You're right. I'm sure we'll have a good time in New York, and like you said, we'll be back. I've already arranged for Sam to manage the Long Branch while I'm away.

"Great, and you'll see, by the time we return you'll have put some things behind you."

 **A WEEK AFTER THAT**

Matt

The sun was beating done hard when Matt crossed into Kansas territory. Riding for weeks in relentless heat had worn him down, but being in Kansas offered a sense of comfort. Boulders, rocks, bushes and trees that would have meant nothing to others, were clear landmarks for him. Every cave, overhang, fishing hole and grove had a welcome familiarity. Even his horse had more spring in his steps as they entered more familiar terrain.

He started practicing aloud – "Hello, Kitty." – "Kitty, I think we should talk." – "Hello, Kitty, it would be good to talk." He never got much beyond that, but with each passing mile he pictured her more clearly – her face, her eyes, her smile. He suddenly pulled his horse to a stop. What if after seeing her again, he lacked the courage to leave? She'd be in danger all over again. He pulled the reins to turn his horse around and head back the way he came. His horse resisted, the way home was clear to him. Matt sat still in the saddle to think. His thoughts muddled and confusing, but Naomi's words were clear. _What you decided for her may not be what she wants or needs. Go and talk to her. Tell her what you're thinking and then listen, really listen."_

He patted his horse's neck. "All right, we'll keep on on to Dodge."

The afternoon grew hotter and hotter. He finished the water in his canteen but knew a spring was not far off. When he got there, his heart dropped. The spring was bone dry. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked around. If he detoured about a mile, he'd get to a watering hole that was so deep it wouldn't be total dry. He rode slowly, so he wouldn't tax his horse. By the time he reached the watering hole he was swaying in the saddle. His horse lowered his neck to get a drink. Matt rolled to the ground and descended into a fevered sleep.

Dodge

Caleb went up the stairs to Doc's office to meet Kitty. He was eager to take his fiancé and Doc out for lunch. He'd just made the final arrangements for the wedding with the minister. Surprisingly, Reverend Markman, the tall, stooped churchman, was a shrewd businessman. There was a fee for the ceremony, and additional fees for a number of optional services. Reverend Markman's smile had grown with each extra Caleb agreed to, and he'd agreed to every one. He was happy to pay to have floral arrangements throughout the church, and to have Gladys, the minister's wife, play piano. For the top price Gladys played introductory music while guests took their seats, the wedding march and the recessional. Caleb reached the top of Doc's stairs sill smiling at his dealings with Markman, and was about to knock when the tone of the voices inside made him pause and listen.

"Kitty, I will pick you up at 10AM on Sunday, dressed in my very best, to walk you down the aisle. I'll have you know, I bought a new tie for the occasion. Now, at this happy time, do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"What makes you think something's bothering me?" She smiled a bit too brightly.

"Kitty, I know you better than anyone but Ma.." He stopped himself before finishing Matt's name, but wanted to smack his head.

"It's all right Doc. The truth is that's what's bothering me. I feel guilty. I love Caleb. He's kind and attractive. He is fun to be with and to talk to. He's understanding and smart. I'm happy and honored to be marrying him. But Matt was – I don't have to tell you about Matt."

"No you don't have to tell me about him. There will never be another Matt Dillon, but he is dead, Kitty. It's hard for me to say those words, but he is. You're about to marry a wonderful man, who understands your past. What is there to feel guilty about?"

She took a deep breath, "I feel guilty because I know that if a miracle happened and Matt walked in right now, every fiber of my body, heart and soul would want to go with him. That makes me a horrible person."

"Kitty, Caleb understands your feelings for Matt. You never tried to hide them. Life and love are complicated." He took her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. "You are starting a new and wonderful life. Be happy."

She smiled a genuine smile, "Thank you Doc. I love you." She winked, "And my wedding reception going to be the best party Dodge City has ever seen. We're inviting the whole town."

Outside the door, Caleb decided that the time to knock finally seemed right. He tapped on the door and pushed it open, "Hello you two. Hope you're hungry because I am. Lunch at Delmonico's awaits."

Kitty smiled and took his arm. The couple went down the steps with Doc following.

The sat in Delmonico's and ordered lunch. "Caleb did you speak to the minister?"

"Yes, there will be flowers galore, and Gladys will play her heart out. Kitty, I know you have everything ready for the reception at the Long Branch. Is your wedding dress finished?" Kitty shook her head with a worried look, "Not exactly, and I'm nervous. The wedding is the day after tomorrow, but Monica and Mable won't have my dress ready for the final fitting until tomorrow."

"Don't worry, they would never disappoint you and you will be the most beautiful bride ever. When I step into church and stand beside the minister, I'll look up the aisle, and the sight of my beautiful bride will make my heart sing."

Kitty leaned over and kissed him.

Doc lifted his coffee cup, "I propose a toast: To happy couples"

Kitty giggled and lifted her cup. Caleb did the same. "To happy couples, and happily-ever-after." They clinked coffee cups and finished lunch in the best of spirits.

TBC


	17. Saturday's Thoughts

Saturday – The Day Before the Wedding

Caleb

Caleb sat in his room at the Dodge House making a half-hearted attempt to write. He hadn't been able to squeeze out more than a sentence or two for weeks, but habit told him to sit down and try. After listlessly writing a couple of words, he scratched them out and set down his pen. Everything would change for the better tomorrow. He was marrying a smart, delightful, beautiful woman, and bringing her to New York, where his gift for writing would return. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. When he met Kitty, she told him she enjoyed his books, but raised a skeptical eyebrow at the idea of a fairytale like, happily-ever-after ending. He believed in such things though, and thought that she did too, deep inside. They'd have a fine life together, and with a change of scenery, her feelings for Dillon would become a faint memory, if a memory at all.

Using his sleeve, he wiped away the sweat that was threatening to drip into his eyes. The heat continued to be relentless. He considered opening a window, but the air outside was as hot and stifling as the air in his room. He picked up his pen once again, and stared at the page in front of him. Doubt started creeping in. What if a change of scenery wasn't the answer? What if his writer's block continued? Writing not only his livelihood, it was a source of pride and notoriety. And what if Kitty never got over Dillon? He didn't want the memory of a dead man coming between them forever. He wanted her heart to be his and his alone.

Trying his best to shake off negative thoughts, Caleb got to his feet. The endless days of oppressive heat were getting to him, and sitting in a small hotel room wasn't helping. Besides, he had an important errand to run. Kitty's wedding ring was at the post office waiting to be picked up. It had arrived special delivery from Boston just in time.

He ran a comb through his hair, and left to pick up the precious package. Purchasing the ring had been the one glitch in his wedding preparations. He'd learned that the finest jeweler in the country was an old, German man living in Oklahoma City. Kitty deserved the best that money could buy, so he'd sent the man a telegram commissioning the creation of a wedding ring. Of course he offered a very good price. The jeweler's response was the strangest letter he'd ever received:

 _Dear Mr. Carson,_

 _I regret that I cannot accept your commission to make a ring for your wedding. Mina, my late wife, advised me that it was not the right thing to do. My Mina always knows best._

Walking to the post office, Caleb recalled the strange letter and shook his head. The old man might be a great jeweler but it was clear he was as crazy as a loon.

"Ah Mr. Carson." The postman held out a small jewelry box. "I think I know what this is. Congratulations, I'll see you tomorrow at your wedding. The whole town will be there."

Caleb smiled his thanks, and left holding the small velvet lined box. It contained an ornate ring made by the Boston jeweler who was in vogue with New York society women.

Kitty

Kitty stood on a chair in the Dodge City dress shop wearing her bridal gown. Monica and Mable knelt on the floor next to her, folding, pinning and taking tiny stitches. Monica stood and looked Kitty over inch by inch. "I remember the day you brought Caleb into our shop to show him around, and here you are, his stunning bride." She looked down at her sister who was tying off a stitch at the hem. "Mable, I believe this gown is our best work by far. Don't you agree?"

Mable Berg was about to answer when they heard the bells above the door jingle. The three women turned as one, to see who had entered. A very tall, slightly stooped, bearded man came in and hovered near the door. He seemed unsure and out of place. His eyes immediately went to Kitty. She looked back quizzically. He quickly looked away, and a blush touched his cheeks.

"Reverend Markman, what are you doing here?" Monica scurried around attempting to block Kitty from view. Mable joined her. "A bride shouldn't be seen in her gown before the wedding, not by anyone."

"Ladies, I apologize. I didn't realize Kitty was trying on her gown. I'm here to pick up a dress for my wife Gladys. I really don't know why she insisted on a new one, she'll be sitting at the piano for the whole ceremony."

Mable fluttered over to the rack and retrieved a lavender dress. She carefully packed it into a box. "Reverend, this wedding is the Dodge City event of the decade, maybe even the century. Gladys wants to look her best."

Kitty nodded, "Besides, after the ceremony, I hope you and your wife are coming to the reception in the Long Branch. I know you're not drinking people, but there will be lots of food and music and sarsaparilla soda."

Reverend Markman smiled, "We're not drinking people but we are celebrating people. We'll be there to share the joy with the happy couple and the community." He took the box. "And Miss Russell I won't breath a word about your dress to anyone, not even my wife. I know you brides like to keep such things a secret."

Matt

Flat on his back near a watering hole outside of Dodge, Matt groaned and rolled on to his side. He looked around, hoping to see his horse, and spotted the big buckskin a few feet away, nibbling on grass. "Glad you stuck around, I'm in no condition to go looking for you." He blinked his eyes and slowly worked his way to a sitting position, the last thing he remembered was sitting on his horse feeling nauseous, hot and weak. He must have slid off and lost consciousness. He sighed and wearily got to his feet. The way he was feeling, it might be a good idea to stay put for a couple of days, before riding on. That way he could fish and get some real food into him, and drink as much water as he needed. He rubbed the back of his neck, the sun was already brutal, and he didn't relish pushing on in the baking heat. A few days in one spot might do him a lot of good, and it really didn't matter when he got to Dodge.

Without bothering to brush the dust from his clothes or face, he walked towards the watering hole to drink, and fill his canteen. A drop of water touched his head, followed by another and another. The sky opened up and a gentle rain fell. He looked upwards and let the rain wash over his face. It washed away the dust, cooled his body, and seemed to clear his mind. A few minutes later the shower ended as suddenly as it began, leaving behind a cool, refreshing breeze. He suddenly felt more clear-headed than he had in weeks. He looked in the direction of Dodge, and heard Naomi's voice as if she was standing right beside him. It was about time he followed her words, and got himself to Dodge. If Kitty was still there he'd talk to her, talk and listen. He'd left Dodge out of love for her, but maybe Naomi was right. Maybe his way was not the only way.

He quickly filled his canteen and grabbed a piece of jerky from his saddlebag. Then he got on his horse and rode towards Dodge. It suddenly seemed senseless and pointless to decide what to say ahead of time. He had to trust that when he got there, the right words would come.

TBC


	18. One Sunday

Matt rode into Dodge late Sunday morning. He was bearded, gaunt, and his clothes carried the grime and wear of weeks on the trail. The town was eerily quiet, even for a Sunday, and he straightened in the saddle with tense alertness. He turned his horse onto Front Street. It was deserted except for one man standing by the side door of the church. He was a pleasant looking man in an expensive 3-piece suit, and even from a distance his happy excitement was apparent. Matt rode towards him. The man looked up and noted that the approaching rider looked barely fit for civilization. Never the less he smiled politely, "Hello stranger."

Matt bristled at being called a stranger in Dodge, "I've been here before, but I've never seen it so quiet, even on a Sunday morning."

Caleb's smile grew broad. "There's a reason for that." Brimming with excitement, words poured forth rapidly. "If you've been here before you know of a woman named Kitty Russell. The reason it's so quiet is because she and I are getting married. Folks are mighty pleased to see how happy she is, so the whole town is in church for the ceremony. I'm waiting to hear the wedding music. Then I'll go in this door to stand at the front of the church by the minister, and watch my beautiful bride come down the aisle. I haven't seen Kitty in her wedding gown yet. That will be something. Oh, Doc's the one walking her down the aisle. I don't know if you know Doc Adams. He's a good friend of Kitty's and mine."

Caleb paused to take a breath, and Matt studied him. He'd said that Kitty was happy, and it was obvious he was excited to be marrying her. He sure didn't seem the type anyone would be coming after for revenge, so there would be no danger in their lives. "I wish you and your bride happiness. Love is a gift. No matter where it takes a you, it's part of you forever." Caleb smiled warmly, surprised at the stranger's fine words, "You're welcome to attend the wedding. Go around to the main entrance and take a seat."

Matt shook his head "I don't …"

Caleb cut in. "I know, you're not exactly dressed for a church wedding, but don't let that stop you from coming to the reception. It's right after the ceremony over in the Long Branch. It's going to be the best party Dodge City has ever seen. We'll be celebrating most of the night, and then Kitty and I are heading for New York City in the morning."

"Thank you, but it's best I move on." Matt turned his horse and went back the way he came." Caleb watched him ride away.

In an exquisite ivory gown, Kitty stood at the back of the church with Doc. "Kitty, you're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen. I can't wait to see Caleb's face, when he steps through that door and sees you."

"Thank you Doc." She kissed his cheek. "For everything. You know what I mean."

Gladys started the introduction to the wedding march with a grand flourish. Kitty took Doc's arm. The wedding march began. Doc looked at Kitty and winked. She smiled and they started down the aisle walking in unison. They were halfway to the front of the church when, as planned, the side door was pushed open. All eyes turned to watch the happy groom enter. There was a collective gasp, and as if struck by a fairy tale spell, everyone froze. Gladys' hands hung suspended, jaws hung open, Kitty and Doc stopped mid-step. A tall, gaunt, bearded man, in grimy clothes stood at the front of the church and looked towards the beautiful bride. Kitty saw his eyes and whispered, "Matt." She charged headlong down the aisle, and took his hands in hers. "Matt." He looked into her eyes and knew the words he had to say. It was a question. A question that meant he trusted her to see a path for them, even when he couldn't. "Kitty, will you marry me?"

"Yes." She turned to the minister who was barely breathing. "Reverend Markman let's get on with it. I believe you know Matt Dillon."

Everyone came to life and starting talking. Doc put up his hands. "Quiet down everybody, quiet down. We're here for a wedding, let's get to it." He hurried down the aisle as fast as his old bones would carry him, grinning like a kid. Reverend Markman tried to re-establish his dignified demeanor, "We will proceed." He looked at Kitty, "Repeat after me. I, Kathleen Russell, take thee Matthew Dillon as my lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor and cherish for all the days of our lives, from this day forward."

Kitty happily spoke the words.

"Marshal, please repeat. I Mathew Dillon, take thee Kathleen Russell as my lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor and cherish for all the days of our lives, from this day forward."

Matt said the words, and the minister nodded at him. "Marshal the ring please. Oh – you – I – Oh my - I don't suppose you have a ring." Matt suddenly remembered the ring the jeweler had given him, the one that seemed to disappear, when he tried to sell it. He pulled it out of his back pocket and held it up. It glittered in the light.

"I have a ring and – I – I know the words that go with it."

He slipped it on Kitty's finger. It was a perfect fit. "With this ring, I thee wed. Just as this ring is a circle with no end, our love is everlasting."

The minister held up his hands. "I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Matt leaned over and whispered, "Hope you don't mind the beard."

"You'll be shaving it soon enough, cowboy." She smiled at him through tears of joy.

He took her by the shoulders and gently touched his lips to hers, savoring her scent and taste before deepening his kiss. They were breathless when their lips parted. She took his arm and they marched up the aisle to thunderous applause. Gladys was clapping so hard she forgot to play the recessional.

Caleb Carson sat on the train going east, watching miles of now familiar scenery fly by. He was sad at the loss of what might have been. It would take time to get over Kitty, but he had no regrets. He'd done the right thing for everyone. Outside the church, he thought the tall rider with the scraggly beard, was a down on his luck cowboy. But then he saw the man's eyes, heard his voice and noted the set of his shoulders. Everyone said there was something about Dillon that set him apart, and they were right. Still he was going to let Dillon ride away, but couldn't do it. Deep inside he knew that trying to thwart fate never ended well. If he and Kitty married and she found out that Dillon was still alive, she'd ache for him. If she found out that he'd seen Dillon and let him leave, their marriage would turn from wine to vinegar. Even if she never found out, his guilt would cast a shadow over their marriage. He knew what was in Kitty's heart.

He tapped a finger on his cheek. A smile crossed his face. He grabbed a notebook and pen from his bag and wrote at the top of the page, **Heart of the West**. Words flew from his pen.

Matt and Kitty made their way up the back stairs to her rooms in the Long Branch. He took her in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes, but suddenly looked up, "Matt, where's Caleb?"

"So that's his name. Kitty, when I rode into town he was the only one around. He told me everyone was in church waiting for your wedding. He said you were happy, and he seemed to love you so I decided to leave again. I figured I was right, that you were happier and better off without me. I was riding away when he called out:

"Dillon, Matt Dillon wait."

"How do you know my name? You thought I was a stranger a minute ago."

"I figured it out, but there's no time to explain. Kitty loves you, you should be the one going through that door to marry her."

"How do you know?"

Caleb rolled his eyes, "Would I be saying this if there was a doubt in my mind? There's not much time. Get back to the church and go through the damn door. If anyone asks, I'll be on the next train east."

Matt gently kissed Kitty's forehead. "That's what happened."

"So much is happening, but I've never been so happy." She looked at the ring on her finger.

"Um Kitty, if you don't like the ring we..."

"No, Matt I love this ring. It's beautiful and unique, and I somehow feel it has love built right into it."

Matt nodded, "There's a story behind it. We have an awful lot to talk about, don't we?"

There was a light tap on the door, "It's Doc, I have something for Matt."

Kitty went to the door and Doc handed over a pile of clothes. "Sure looked to me like Matt could use some fresh clothes. I always kept a set in my office. Didn't have the heart to get rid of them when we thought he was dead. You two get a move on. Folks are waiting for you." He started to leave but turned back. "And tell Matt I'll have a plate piled with food waiting for him. He looks like he could use it." He went down the steps whistling a happy tune.

Kitty handed the clothes to Matt. Cowboy, wash up, shave and change. Like you said, we have a lot to talk about, but first we have a lot of celebrating to do."

TBC


	19. Just One Year

AN: Thank you every reader and everyone who posted comments. Your comments are so thoughtful, interesting and sometimes have amazing plot ideas that I never even thought of! The readership here is the best. Thank you all for hanging in with my convoluted story.

On with the show.

One Year Later

Reverend Gabriel Torch sat outside a multi-room house, and thought about the past year. Luck, fate or the good lord had lead him to Luckenbach, Texas, a place with a sturdy church, fine folks and no minister. They accepted him with open arms and he threw himself into his work. After a few months, he met with his parishioners and spoke of his desire to build a safe haven for women with nowhere to go. Although wary of attracting women of low morals to their town, they trusted him enough to give it a try, and helped him build it. The first woman who came became a seamstress, the second a cook in the town diner, and soon "The Torch House," as it was called, was part of the community.

"Excuse me, is your name Gabriel Torch?"

He turned and saw a very young woman wearing a red dress. Her thinness and pallor reminded him of Naomi. "Yes, I am. Anyone who needs help is welcome here. What do you need?"

"I-I need to feel safe and I-I need a better life. A tall man with kind eyes told me that if I needed help I should go to a Reverend Gabriel Torch. I heard where you were from another woman. My name's Susie." She looked at him, unsure of what to do next.

He gently her hand. "Welcome Susie. I'll show you to a bedroom that will be yours and yours alone. We'll get you healthy, and then we'll figure out what you can do next."

She went with him into the building, and allowed her heart to be hopeful.

Torch whispered under his breath, "Matthew, one who spreads good news, thank you."

Caleb

Wearing a fine 3-piece suit Caleb Carson sat behind a desk in New York City's Strand Book Store. He looked at the line of people waiting patiently for him to autograph their copies of, _Heart of the West_. Many were clutching the book to their chests, the pages well worn from repeated readings. A young woman stepped up to the desk and set her copy in front of Caleb. "I just loved it, loved it sooo much."

Caleb opened the book to sign the inside page, "I'm very glad to hear that."

The woman leaned forward, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level, "Some people say that the story is true. They say that the noble, brave, kind and generous writer in the book – the one who gave up the beautiful red head - is really you. Is it? You can tell me." Her eyes grew moist as she awaited an answer.

He finished signing his name with a flourish, closed the book and handed it back with a smile, "Miss, I am a writer of fiction. I make up stories. I'm pleased you enjoyed this one." He looked at the line of people who were patiently waiting their turn, "Next please."

Kitty and Matt

Matt unlocked the door of a small but attractive house and ushered Kitty inside. "You know Kitty, I've really come to enjoy living in New Orleans." He helped her shed her lace-trimmed jacket and hung it in the hall closet.

"I knew you would Matt, once you got to know the place. And, even though you're not one for fancy events, you seemed to have a good time tonight." She took his arm. "Let's have a night cap."

They went into their elegant and comfortable sitting room, with a sofa and chairs that even a very large man could relax in. "Kitty, I did have a good time, the food was great and those musicians were terrific. They played that ragtime kind of music we both like so much. You had fun too, didn't you?"

"Yes, except for one thing." She poured two glasses of brandy and handed him one. "The mayor's speech annoyed me, and frankly the police commission's reaction to it did too."

He looked perplexed, "Why were you annoyed? The mayor's speech was short and the commissioner didn't say much at all."

"Oh Matt, the mayor praised the commissioner to the high heavens for his great work finding that serial killer, and the commissioner soaked in the applause and took a big bow. You and I both know that you're the one who figured it all out, and broke the case."

She sat down on the couch, shaking her head. He sat beside her, "Now Kitty, my deal with the commissioner is that I'm an unnamed, paid consultant. My name is never to be mentioned officially, or even unofficially, or given to the press. No need for me to call attention to myself. It's safer for us that way. The official word is that the US Marshal named Matt Dillon is dead. Some people know different, but not enough for the word to spread. That's the best thing for us."

"I know Matt, I just hate for you not to get the recognition you deserve."

He leaned over and kissed her lips softly, "I only care about the opinion of one person. The wonderful woman I'm married to."

"Well, fact is she thinks very highly of you." She squeezed his hand. He smiled and set his glass down on the coffee table. He noticed a book sitting there and frowned. "Kitty, that's Caleb Carson's new book, _Heart of the West_." He tapped the cover with a finger. "Don't tell me you're reading it?"

Slightly embarrassed at reading a work by her former fiancé, she stammered, "I - well - I - I was curious."

"Did you like it?"

She hesitated but slowly nodded. "It has a really good, happy ending. Almost like a fairy tale."

Matt looked at her innocently. "Well, he did describe the amazing and beautiful redhead perfectly, but I don't think her returning love could have looked as scruffy, filthy, and unfit for civilization as he was described in the book. I mean, I couldn't have looked that terrible."

"MATT," She lightly smacked his shoulder. "You read it too."

He grinned, "Finished it this morning." He lifted his glass. "Let's toast. To happy endings and a writer who believes in them."

The clinked glasses and finished their drinks. Kitty stood and took Matt's hand big calloused hands in her smaller smooth ones, "Come on Cowboy. Let's go upstairs and create some chapters of our own."

The End


End file.
